“I wonder which of us enjoys that most,” said Capes—“does he, or do we?” “He seems to get a zest—” “He does it and forgets it. 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. He lowered her neck before her, and she noticed a bizarre urge to bite him rising from her mind like an itch. At other times you seem so innocent that it breaks my heart, when you look at me like I’m your Prince Charming and you are depending on me to take you away to my castle in a world that doesn’t exist! I can take you away from this place. But her temper almost flared again when the sergeant spoke.
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