1. "Jack!" Her son averted his gaze. Monsieur Valade heaved a gusty sigh, and Gerald, with heavy diplomacy and a forced heartiness of manner, turned the subject. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. . “I believe you are quite right so far as regards the present, at any rate,” someone remarked, from the depths of an easy chair. The house had in fact been converted into a convent, but the fact could not be advertised, not even in the Catholic enclave that existed in this part of town. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire.
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