It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. And he liked her. When at first she had realized that he 206 had conducted a sexual affair with a local well-known Florentine courtesan she called him out, accusing him of exposing her to an array of diseases. By the light of a torch borne at the stern of the hostile wherry, he saw that the pursuers had approached within a short distance of the object of their quest. "I see. He pulled on his pants, his yellow shirt with the ridiculous horse logo, his brown socks, and shoes. Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. ‘As to Gérard, I do not know why he does this.
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