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. " "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood. I am going to take you entirely at your word. For a moment she thought of saying yes, and then filled with shame. " "Done!" cried the old sailor. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. "Right!—right!" cried Jack, striking his fettered hands against his breast.
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