83 She stared at his crazily erect penis, mentally comparing it to Gianfrancesco’s. ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. The world into which she was so boldly venturing was going to be wonderful, but never so wonderful as the world within these paper covers. People were not slaves to their gods as they are now, oppressed and unhappy, chained to their mortality and suffering so that they may one day enter an imaginary Heaven. Even so much allusion as this to that family shadow, she felt, was an immense recognition of her ripening years. The sky periodically pummeled her with hail pellets as she would pass through the deserted intersections. ‘Is he meeting you here then, my dear?’ ‘He had better,’ said Lucilla. Your family has not sullied itself by dabbling in it, at least not 173 from what I know, so now is not the time to begin. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. Let’s face it, she hates Missy’s guts.
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