Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn
could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her
screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a
rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where
someone had pried out a few golden teeth. In response to an almost imperative gesture from the
nurse, Anna laid her hand upon his. Anna was no favourite at No. 2. You
will never be happy with this hanging over you. "Restore it," he cried, in an authoritative voice. "Oh, Gemini!" she exclaimed. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member
of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in
Mantua. CHAPTER IX. She thought of how tired she was, how
exhausted, how hungry. By this time, the procession had reached the west end of the wall of St.
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