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He drew her closer. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. Look at it, I say. Aunt Jane had her quiet moments. ” He sidled toward her, but she recoiled from him, leaving him in possession of the hearth-rug. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. It was locked. ’ Quick anger flared, surpassing the fluttering hope.

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