His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. ” “Can’t we go down into Italy?” “No,” he said; “it won’t run to that now. Instead of which they walked sharply. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. ’ She stopped, her lips tightening.
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