. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. Nuns, I mean. I love the soles of your feet. Sebastian, too, seemed to be immune, even though cats, dogs, and beasts of the suffered just as the humans did: blackening and dying, their eyes rolling, their bodies covered with bald buboes. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping.
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