’ Hilary’s jaw dropped open, and he stood stupidly staring, the nun’s clothing dangling from his hand. “Is that you, Nigel?” she asked. I’ll have to wait here, of course, which means you, Hilary—’ ‘Will have to do tomorrow’s patrol. She shot a sudden glance at him. 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. And now her father said she must not go. I tried. Tucked under the writing-table a pair of yellow and gold Turkish slippers of a highly meretricious quality caught her eye.
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