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The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire. He seemed to charge her with the ruin of their situation. And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel. " "I wish I could have foreseen. In passing, why do we fear death? For our sins? Rather, isn't it the tremendous inherent human curiosity to know what is going to happen to-morrow that causes us to wince at the thought of annihilation? A subconscious resentment against the idea of entering darkness while our neighbour will proceed with his petty affairs as usual? "It's nip and tuck," said the doctor; "but we'll pull him through.

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