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. She touched it, and her gaze lifted. Melusine sighed with relief at being alone at last and free to resume her search among the portraits. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. " Ruth did so, but without any particular fervour. It is at the lodge that we stay. "That's your hunting ground," said the doctor.
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