“The doctor has asked me to give them my reasons—for shooting myself. Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face. She fought him at first, screaming at him, but he did not relent. Abruptly she desisted, recoiled, and turned and fled up-stairs. “I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. " "You won't tell me what he has done?" "If you'll tell me where he's heading. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. Let me go my own way towards them. It warms me, and lights me, and fills my world with flowers. Seizing her hand he covered it with kisses.
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