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Reaction sweeping over him, his senses reeled and Livius stepped backward, staggering to the fountain, where he sat down. "Bona dea! But the man took time to tell his secret!" Marcia exclaimed. "Popeia, you had better take my litter to the palace and bring that minx Cornelia. I suspected it was she but wasn't sure of it. Don't give her an inkling of what you know.
A young mother sat on the tracks, fondly hugging a plaid shawl in her arms. Her babe was there in that burning pyre, but horror had overpowered her reason. There she sat, caressing the woollen bundle, and in a low voice singing her "Eia Popeia" to the child of her fantasy. An aged Polish Jew lay across the barricade wall.
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