The reply he received this time put him into a state of continuous bewilderment. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. Melusine did not pause, but reached down to grasp the hilt of his sword and lift it. ‘Who has begun this but you?’ Gerald barely heard her. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. On this side of the canal she has no place to go. How dreary it all looks. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars.
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