Surely she could ignore him. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. " The Wastrel rushed. I love your very breath. " "Never fear," replied the lady. And don’t talk until we’re well out of earshot.
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