“It might be a policeman borrowing the driveway and looking out for speeders. Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. He was always doing his best to call her attention to the fact that he was a man of spirit and quality and experience, and she a young and beautiful woman, and that all sorts of constructions upon their relationship were possible, trusting her to go on from that to the idea that all sorts of relationships were possible. You have taken upon your shoulders the burden of her misdeeds. 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. Where's Jonathan?" Inquiries were instantly made after that individual, but he was nowhere to be found. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun.
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