Fruit trees had been brought all the way from India so their product could be laden on the wedding table, fruits with exotic shapes and haunting flavors ended the meal, cleansing the palate. The open books she knew by heart; aye, they had been ground into her, morning and night. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua. She regarded him coldly, as though wondering whether he had anything further to say. She saw his face change, how he regretted. I could not dream of loving you. ” “You remembered. The word handsome was a little beyond her grasp. \"My parents. She recalled that day of the typhoon and the sloop crashing on the outer reefs. It was too good to be true. . No one had the resources or the inclination to rebuild them.
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