Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. Forgive me. Gianfrancesco had been talked into the arrangement only because the drivers that had handled the job for generations were sick or dead. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had. Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. I do not know how I shall get it, but I must, you understand. An unhappy little sigh escaped her. “These are the times that would make me glad to live forever, if only they lasted.
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