Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. “How are you, Lucy?” Martin ran to catch her in the crowded hall. There was a recurrence of fever, but nothing alarming. ’ ‘With ease, mademoiselle,’ he countered, catching her blade. 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. Listen. When he’s found out where she’s staying, I’ll have him keep an eye on Valade’s residence in Paddington, I think. The starling, on which the carpenter stood, was the fourth from the Surrey shore.
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