9. ” She found it difficult to begin thinking, and indeed she was anything but clear what it was she had to think about. It warms me, and lights me, and fills my world with flowers. Winifred instantly picked it up. 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. With a curt command to her cavalier to get up on the box and give the direction to the interested coachman, he jumped in beside the girl and shut them both into privacy. ’ ‘His daughter, ma’am?’ Gerald asked.
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