’ ‘What?’ Hilary glanced from Gerald to Melusine, and coloured up. 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. ‘Tell me, my boy. Bought the freedom of a sing-song girl; and all the while you knew you'd have to tote the girl back. ‘I told you I would find out all about you, Melusine.
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