I have never wept since that day. " With this, she burst into tears, and sank with her face upon his shoulder. ” “To know things by name is one thing; to know them by seeing them and feeling them and being them quite another. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. 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. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness.
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