Why don’t you go in? Charvill is there. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. Wood, who had recovered her good humour, quitted the room she bestowed a hearty embrace on Thames, and she told him laughingly, that she would "defer all she had to propose to him until to-morrow. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. "So I did," retorted Mrs.
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