His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. As he hesitated, unable to make up his mind what to do for the best, a heavy rumbling on the cobbles penetrated his absorption. I believe it amused him. ‘That is better, no?’ ‘Dieu. The fascination of the idea of throwing himself upon his knees and crying out all that was in his heart! As his eyes began to focus objects, he saw one of her arms extended upon the counterpane, in his direction, the hand clenched tightly. “You could tell me but you’d have to kill me?” He asked with a sardonic grin on his face.
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