Your aunt liked the pheasant. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. Wood, was much better furnished with eatables than might have been expected, and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat-pie, and a flask of wine. “And yet I do it without compunction. Sebastian was gone and another doctor came to bleed her, to rid her of the black humors that were causing the plague.
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