She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. "Because it's not like you," was her answer. Don’t favour your father much, either, if it comes to that. I can assure you, I wouldn’t be single again for worlds.
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