“What have you done to yourself?” he muttered. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. Piano wire, stained with black rust from the horrible deeds she had committed. “You see,” he said, “from my point of view you’re grown up— you’re as old as all the goddesses and the contemporary of any man alive. Who could guarantee a safer existence outside Florence? That Sebastian seemed to have a weird immunity to the Pestilence was a trait that went unquestioned, unanswered. But do not awaken my apprehension, unless you have good cause for so doing. Gentlemen! a glass of brandy will be no bad finish to our meal. I want to get away. The only mercy you can show me is to kill me. “That’s enough, Michelle!” Diane snapped in the ugly raised voice of the enforcer.
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