He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. As soon as he became convalescent, and all fears of his premature dissolution were at an end, Wild recommenced his rigorous treatment. “Yes. I have it on my conscience that I offended you—” “Offended me when?” “I’ve been haunted by the memory of you. She had lost her sense of direction, and was among unfamiliar streets. And he began also at times to wake at night and think about her. I am sorry to seem to disobey you, but I am. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. “Why should it matter?” he said.
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