She suspected that he would take a mistress just as soon as they returned to Florence. In order to make Mr. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw. His shouts for help were answered by roars of mockery and laughter. I was grounded for the last two weeks. This time she feinted as his point came up to deflect her own, and disengaging, passed under and cut at his cheek. The subject matter was generally worthless, but the handling was well done. Afterward she wanted to get her letter to her father back in order to read it over again, and, if it tallied with her general impression of it, re-write it. “What are you doing?” he asked. Oh God! my limbs fail me. . Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. He measured out the portion of another peg, the bottle wavering in his hand.
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