It must be the dawn creeping in. ’ ‘Well, don’t bite my head off,’ protested Mrs Sindlesham, clearly amused. Just beyond there would be her heart's desire. She had always loved babies, like you! We ran away to the Barbars, back then, the land of the barbarian North. 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. I hated the stuff. "Leave us, Mrs. ‘He wanted me also to run away with him, and I wish very much that I had done so.
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