She lived, he noted, very carelessly. “I don’t think she quite sees the harm of those people or the sort of life to which they would draw her,” she said. It seemed that within an instant the Pestilence struck, and she begged me on her deathbed to shelter you and her grandson for the rest of your lives, as she could see that even though I was a ‘demon fiend’ and ‘minor devil’ that I loved you. She had changed into dungarees herself and kept her hair as it was. "I don't know," she answered vaguely.
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