. ‘And now, monsieur le major—’ ‘I will see you to the door,’ Gerald said, looking with interest at the building that his observant groom had told him housed a small collection of nuns. 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. “You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. This intelligence, which she instantly communicated to the carpenter, drove him almost frantic.
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