He's had a hard knock somewhere; and until he is strong enough to walk, we must keep his interest away from that thought. “The rarefied air? I thought you had a better head. ” “I do not know who he is,” Brendon said quietly, “but he will not forget. A dissipated, loose-living man. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire.
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