William Le Queux

“ The countenance I had seen at Stretton Street was white and lifeless, while that of the girl was fresh and rosy. Nevertheless, that blank expression upon her face, and the fact that her companion had linked his arm in hers, both pointed to the fact that either her vision was dim, or her great dark eyes were actually sightless. The man was fairly well dressed, but the girl was very shabby. Her rusty black, her cheap stockings, her down-at-heel shoes, and her faded hat combined to present a picture of poverty. ”

“ At that hour of the morning the central thoroughfare is always crowded by business men, cooks out shopping, and open-mouthed forestieri—the foreigners who come, guide-book in hand, to gaze at and admire the thousand wonderful monuments of the ancient city of Medici. The girl’s face certainly resembled very closely that of the dead girl Gabrielle Engledue. ”

“ I went on. “A moment ago, as you crossed the Piazza, you encountered an Italian gentleman and a girl. Could you tell me the gentleman’s name?”
“What, the person I bowed to a moment ago?” she exclaimed. “Oh! that’s Doctor Moroni.”
Moroni! I recollected the name. He was one of the mourners!
“And the girl?” I asked.
“Ah! I do not know. I saw her out with an old woman the other day. But I have no idea who she is.”
“Is Doctor Moroni a doctor of medicine?” I inquired.
“Yes. The people at the pension of the Lung Arno where I live, always call him in. I was ill six months ago, and he attended me. ”