’ While he trod a deliberate path through the pink saloon towards the door, Gerald encouraged a flow of harmless chatter about the people Madame had met and the parties she had attended. She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. The stain was blood, but this was a stain that resulted from being up one’s elbows in blood! She smiled a nurse’s knowing smile.
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