. "Rowland," said Lady Trafford, regarding him with a look of indescribable anxiety, "you have assured me that I shall behold my son. Although she had refused to answer his impertinent questions. By the time she was done, the bodies in the bathtub were gathering flies. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua. He was normal now, and the coat was only a coat. He saw her, dripping with rosy pearls, rise out of the lagoon in the dawn light: he saw her flashing to and fro among the coco palms in the moonshine: he saw her breasting the hurricane, her body as full of grace and beauty as the Winged Victory of the Louvre. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. ’ ‘What, for not wanting to marry you?’ ‘Imbecile.
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