He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. 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. His hot juices coursed into her in quick bursts. The small Diedermayer clan was a captive audience. Don't worry about me. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. He fell back upon the pillows with a little moan, clutching the slim white fingers fiercely. Wood had prevented him from paying much attention to the previous scene.
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