Nothing but the constraint of social usage now linked him to her. There were shadows under his eyes. ‘Can I not leave you for a day without you getting yourself into trouble?’ ‘Imbecile,’ she uttered faintly. Capes sat watching and admiring her, and then he fell praising the day and fortune and their love for each other. ‘But you will not be in a convent. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. Some day I'm going to paint her; but that will be when I've retired. Her name is Lucia, she works in the Alberti Yarn Shop, across from Florestano the Butcher!” I happily rewarded her with a shiny new Florin and sent her off. But you are Annabel. You fell in at once with her quixotic and damnable scheme of foisting her reputation and her follies upon your shoulders whilst she marries a rich man and commences all over again a life of selfish pleasure. ’ ‘So I infer. My, um, my curfew.
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