‘You have every right to be angry with me. I should never have noticed the miniature at all, if it hadn't been for him. ’ Melusine’s eyes narrowed and she drew back. 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. I waited until he was asleep and then I tied him up with some duct tape and some old rope he had in the shed. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. You see to what it has brought you. .
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