“Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me. Her voice shook, her eyes were very soft and melting. ” “I was turned shortly after the Pestilence, the plague that they call the Black Death. She smiled and started for the stairs without reply. In doing this, he chanced to raise his eyes and half fancied he beheld, shaded by a pillar at the extremity of the western aisle, the horrible countenance of the thief-taker. And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it.
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