“Can’t you SEE how things are?” she said. Who could guarantee a safer existence outside Florence? That Sebastian seemed to have a weird immunity to the Pestilence was a trait that went unquestioned, unanswered. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. “But we satisfy one another. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms.
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