They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. Deuce take it! I was very near spelling my name with one P. In the distance a bell clanged, and chattering broke out in the doorway as several nuns came crowding in. 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. " "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly.
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