“It was very tiring. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. I really cared for him a little, but I am absolutely determined not to marry for some time at any rate. Melusine cast one swift glance at it, and her eyes, flashing magnificently, came back to his face. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. Fruit trees had been brought all the way from India so their product could be laden on the wedding table, fruits with exotic shapes and haunting flavors ended the meal, cleansing the palate.
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