She told him the story of her parents, her marriage to Iovelli, the loss of her baby, the kidnapping after the miscarriage. ‘You don’t favour her, bar the black hair. The farmer had become obsessed with her and asked her to marry. Part of her felt like laughing insanely at how badly she had been duped. I'm not interested in him. And I’ll have that story off you as we journey back to town. The church was crowded to excess by the numbers eager to witness the ceremony; and as soon as it was over the wedded pair were followed to the carriage, and the loudest benedictions uttered for their happiness. He had deliberately saved it for last. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight.
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