She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. She was very pretty. Wood caught hold of Jack's leg, and dragged him off the bench. “If one was free,” she said, “one could go to him. Yet she could not bring herself to hate the girl, or even Gianfrancesco, the one who would have sent her to her death more than once. 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. The garrets were said to be tenanted by coiners, and artists employed in altering watches and jewelry; the cellars to be used as a magazine for stolen goods. She held it by the neck and broke the end of the bottle on the hard dirt. “Where am I?” he muttered. " Which was literally the truth. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute.
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