How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. She turned a resolute face southward. Cathy Beck was outraged. Michelle was too polite to put it into words. Only you seem to me since the time when I knew you in Paris to have changed—to have changed in some subtle manner which I find at times utterly bewildering. ’ ‘Get going, then,’ Trodger told his men. He really deserves a better fate, does he not? He is so beautifully persistent. “Look here,” he said, “I brought you here to make love to you. Many a black veil hid a high-born dame, and the religious habit was no protection.
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