Kidskin? But a kid could not furnish a skin as large as
this one. No doubt it is made from some queer foreign animal,
perhaps from a beast of Greece or Arabia?"
While speaking these words, Foresto flashed one look, mournful and
eloquent, at Madonna Gemma, then softly withdrew from the hall.
She sat motionless, wave after wave of cold flowing in through her
limbs to her heart. She stared, as though at a basilisk, at Lapo's
new vest, in which she seemed to find the answer so long denied her.
The hall grew dusky; she heard a far-off cry, and when she meant to
flee, she fainted in her chair.
For a week Madonna Gemma did not rise from her bed. When finally she
did rise she refused to leave her room.
But suddenly Lapo Cercamorte was gayer than he had been since the
fall of Grangioia Castle. Every morning, when he had inquired after
Madonna Gemma's health, and had sent her all kinds of tidbits, he
went down to sit among his men, to play morra, to test swordblades,
to crack salty jokes, to let loose his husky guffaw. At times,
cocking his eye toward certain upper casements, he patted his fine
vest furtively, with a gleeful and mischievous grin. To Baldo, after
some mysterious nods and winks, he confided:
"Everything will be different when she is well again.
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