” “It isn’t precisely faults,” said Ann Veronica. Manning’s letter. ’ She paused, holding her nurse’s eyes. Manning, “I know. She slipped past the servants, her soft roe-skin shoes unheard on the old stone. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. The mere enumeration of the obstacles that existed would have deterred any spirit less daring than Sheppard's from even hazarding the attempt. Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. "And now," cried Jack, leaping up, "for an achievement, compared with which all I have yet done shall be as nothing!" CHAPTER XVII.
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