He had scarcely completed his toilet, when he was startled by a noise at the door, and heard his own name pronounced in no friendly accents. . But I do not know you at all, in truth, and I do not understand why you do this. Nothing else weighs against it. I ——” He stopped short. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. “My charm of manner, I suppose.
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