The winter of 1348 seemed to last an eternity, but the Pestilence struck in one day. Even the horns were easing into the concept and the woodwinds in the second movement were particularly well-orchestrated. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. She recalled him. Never mind. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition.
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