Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water. “If I didn’t love you better than myself,” said Capes, “I wouldn’t fence like this with you. Lucy vomited onto the floor at the sight of her mother dying, the black spots expanding across her corpse. Jonathan threw open the street-door. 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.
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