"You've given him a broken head, I perceive. 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. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. By instinct. She may afford us some necessary information. I was mean to him. His face was downcast. “What do you want to go out here for, Lucy?” He 217 asked.
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