" At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. His fingers slipped under the collar of her linen shift and he tore it open with a swipe. He seemed safe from the sickness, having been surrounded by the dying, he had witnessed the carnage up close and yet his health still prevailed. I couldn’t rest or eat or sleep. The situation bothered him considerably. I saw her face and it was the face that had been hidden from me in dreams, a face very much like yours, Lucia.
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