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. But in between these wider phases of comparative confidence were gaps of disconcerting doubt, when the universe was presented as making sinister and threatening faces at her, defying her to defy, preparing a humiliating and shameful overthrow. “He’d better treat you right this time or I’ll pulverize him, you hear?” Lucy gave in to the hug. ” Sir John coughed. " "Or the flat stones in the meadows, teeming with life underneath. .
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