Harold Lamb,
Rusudan — VI. The Wit of Messer Antonio
(1927)
“ And Rusudan—He would be well content to abide in Tphilis for a few days. It would not be so pleasant riding back alone, as with that wayward gipsy Rusudan, even in a storm. “Arg my falcon is quick to see—” “Come!” Trevisani stooped under the lintel of a clay hut with horn windows, deep in the shadow of the hill. And the merchant shivered as if the breath of the river ice had touched him. A score of hillmen and Circassians sat on the cushions by the stove against the wall, and no one made way for the twain from the castle. ”
