Year of Wonders

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a novel of the Plague

The living few, and frequent funerals then,Proclaim’d thy wrath on this forsaken place:And now those few who are return’d agenThy searching judgments to their dwellings trace.

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‘What answer should I give her, Rector?’

When he saw my face, he laughed again. My eyes must have been wide as chargers. Wiping a tear of mirth from his own, he struggled for composure. ‘No, I see. You can barely be expected to carry such a message. Put it into whatever words you like, but convey to Miss Bradford that I will not see her, and get her from this house.’

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