‘You wish a reason for jealousy? Eh bien, you may have it. If you will have your peg, take it with plain water. 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. She thought of Sebastian who often returned from the charnel house that the outside world had become. I have it about me. Who invented them? Nobody knows. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. Still, her face never betrayed this distraction.
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