. He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world. It’s too bad that you can’t date two guys at once. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest. Then a servant girl brought in a telegram. 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.
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