He loved Ann Veronica, he said; he was so mad to have her that he defeated himself, and did crude and alarming and senseless things. He motioned the young man to the rear chair, because at that hour the youth appeared to be a quantity close to zero. 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. He was disappointed when Intermission arrived. This forthright dame was so excited, she could not keep still, but paced about the parlour much as Melusine had done earlier. I have always understood that men avoid like the plague a woman with a sense of humour. "Let him remain," interposed Trenchard.
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