He upset some one —probably Mr. Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. ” “Yes, but you forget; how am I to live?” “Easily. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. Never any doubt of it.
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