” The suitcase loomed in her memory, making its presence felt once again. . Father had traveled to Florence to the Mercato Nuovo, staying away for a half year at a time paying court to the house of the silk merchant Iovelli, which was patronized by none other than the Medicis. “I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he said. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. “If you say so, my pet. He was a little embarrassed. ” “Why on earth—? A man ought to be labelled.
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