He had not thought to find a lady so ready of humour and willing to give him a hearing. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. She would always be waiting upon this boy, he mused. Who but you would have dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's the name of a river, not a Christian. That is, until I investigated Iovelli-Alberti in the Fourteenth Century!” They reached a part of the subdivision dubbed “The Treehouse”, a popular hangout for edgy teens who smoked joints in its foundation pits. " Ah Cum lent an ear covertly.
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