A. The trader you spoke about: he disliked your father, didn't he? Well, he probably played your father a horrible practical joke. 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. Sister Angelina shook her head as if to say that such ignorance was beyond her. "What's that?" demanded McClintock.
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