There’s no sense in morality, I suppose, unless you are fundamentally immoral. He uttered a short laugh. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. “Lucy, are you feeling all right?” He asked concernedly.
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