I quickly ingratiated myself to Gianfrancesco, playing on his insecurities, drawing from his need for more and more power. She had never dreamed of such decadence, never imagined that young people could be so happy and healthy. “How unkind!” she exclaimed. She meant to go, she meant to go, she meant to go. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe. The couple reappeared from behind the curtains, both visibly shaken. He recognised this object at once.
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