She had to school herself to speak the words which she knew would cut him like a knife. He had barely settled at his desk in his library, when he was disturbed by two morning callers. 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. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. He fended these things off from him with the rump of his fourth piece of cake. Brendon always comes home with me, and tonight both are away. His initial nervousness had already abated, and it took some valour to allow himself to become embroiled in Melusine’s crazy schemes.
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