Too many. But the world didn’t do that. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. Take me with you. Sebastian slowed the car after they had traveled seventy miles into the countryside. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. ‘Why not a French flag?’ ‘Because I don’t believe that fool Pottiswick could tell French from Arabic, even if he heard it as he says he did—which I take leave to doubt.
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