Ramage!” she cried, and struggled to her feet. Just let him down easy, Lucy. ” “You are,” he answered unconsciously. ’ ‘Will you indeed? Truly?’ His smile held so much tenderness, she was tempted to surrender at once. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. ‘Certainly I am not a nun. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire. “Do you need me to tell you? You have tasted the luxury of power.
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