When I was younger, I was very sick with a deadly flu. The lonely widows of robber barons found him irresistible and he was the guest of many a fine table. And lunged once more. But a total stranger, a man you never saw twentyfour hours ago! It can't be thought of. There was a bare chance that he had been mistaken. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming.
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