cumulative effects of the alcohol, the medication, the pain, and the tension had brought about the state he knew was best: sleep. He had carried her into the bedroom, undressed her, and put her to bed, covering her, touching her face, resisting the ache that would have placed him beside her.
On his way back to the couch in the sitting room he had remembered the clothes from the Via Condotti; he had stuffed them in his duffle bag before leaving the pensione. The white hat was the worse for the packing, but the silk dress was less wrinkled than he had thought it would be. He had hung them up before sleeping himself.
He had gotten up at ten and gone down to the shops in the lobby to buy a flesh-colored makeup base that would cover Antonia's bruises, and a pair of Gucci sunglasses that looked remarkably like the eyes of a grass- hopper. He had left them along with the clothes on the chair next to the bed.
She had found them an hour ago, the dress the first thing she had seen when she had opened her eyes.
"You are my personal fandullal" she had called out to him. "I am a princess in a fairy tale and my handmaidens wait upon mel What will my Socialist comrades think?" "That you know something they don't know," Bray had replied. "They'd hang Marx in effigy to change places with you. Have some coffee and then get dressed. We're having lunch with a disciple of the Medicis. You'll love his politics." She was dressing now, humming fragments of an unfamiliar tune that sounded like a Corsican sea chanty. She had found part of her mind again and a semblance of freedom; he hoped she could keep both. There were no guarantees. The hunt would accelerate at the restaurant in the Via Frascati and she was part of it now.
The humming stopped, replaced by the sound of highheeled shoes crossing a marble floor. She stood in the door and the ache returned to Scofield's chest. The sight of her moved him and he felt oddly helpless. Stranger still, for a moment he wanted only to hear her speak, listen to her voice, as if hearing it would somehow confirm her immediate presence. Yet she did not speak. She stood there, lovely and vulnerable, a grown-up child seeking approval, resentful that she felt the need to seek it. The silk dress was tinged with deep red, complimenting her skin, bronzed by the Corsican sun; the large wide hat framed half her face in white, the other half bordered by her long dark-brown hair. The strains of France and Italy had merged in Antonia Gravet; the results were striking.
"You look fine," said Bray, getting up from the chair.
"Does the makeup cover the marks on my face?" "I forgot about them so I guess it does." In the ache he had forgotten.
"How are you feeling?" "I'm not sure. I think the brandy did as much damage as the Brigatisti." "There's a remedy. A few glasses of wine." "I think not, thank you." "Whatever you say. I'll get your coat; it's in the closet." He started across the room, then stopped, seeing her wince. "You're not all right, are you? It burts." "No, please, really, I'm fine. The salve your doctor friend gave me is very good, very soothing. He's a nice man.,, "I want you to go back and see him anytime you need help," he said.
"Whenever anything bothers you." "You sound as though you won't be with me," she replied. "I thought we settled that. I accepted your offer of employment, remember?" Bray smiled. "It'd be hard to forget, but we haven't defined the job. We'll be together for a while in Rome, then depending on what we find, I'll be moving on. Your job will be to stay here and relay messages between Tal- eniekov and me." "I am to be a telegraph service?" asked Antonia. "What kind of job is that?" "A vital one. I'll explain as we go along. Come on, I'll get your coat." He saw her close her eyes again. Pain had jolted her. "Antonia, listen to me.
When you hurt, don't try to hide it, that doesn't help anybody. How bad is it?" "Not so bad. It will pass, I know. I've been through this before." "Do you want to go back to the doctor?" "No. But thank you for your concern." The ache was still there, but Scofield resisted