Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies. He pushed her to his bed, little more than a cot, and pulled off her clothes. Gone were the old days where an old maid banged on an upright piano above a roaring crowd, this sound was loud enough to be heard outside the building, she thought to herself as her eardrums throbbed. Manning came into her thoughts again, an unexpected, tall, dark, self-contained presence at the Fadden. Wood struck me a blow which made me a robber.
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