Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. " "You may see the marks on the child yourself, if you choose, Sir," urged the widow. ” She looked at him doubtfully. \" Mark was tall and skinny, a mop of brown hair over a pillar of freckles. Both, perhaps?’ At that, her eyes darkened with fury. “Will you help me?” he asked. They bickered frequently now as Gianfrancesco protested the prices of things like funeral candles and poultices to comfort the dying. As though accidentally she swept her skirts from a chair close drawn to her own. ” “The school orchestra?” “Nope. Least of all myself. “Mary!” He whispered loudly.
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