I have had my day; and there were women in it. Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent agony. 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 paused for the effect of his words to sink in, and then added, ‘Don’t be so ready to show hackle. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. “Think of what people will say!” That became a refrain. Down on me luck, I was, and they took me in. Sometimes I think I’ll miss them and I start to cry, but I’m ready to have a life of my own. ’ That wonderful poster—is of you.
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