” “But how?” He was, she thought, a little too insistent. She had eaten little or no tea, and her mid-day meal had been worse than nothing. She answered weakly, “I’m fine, John. 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. My Great Grandma 39 LeFevre had fourteen children, and my Papa said that she started at the age of thirteen. You must be misinformed, Mr. I mean to have you! Don’t frown me off now.
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