Suddenly he grew alert, as though realising that he was not alone. 'Who is it?' he called, looking around.

She tried to force herself to speak, but a frozen hand seemed to be grasping her throat.

'I know you're somewhere,' he said. 'There's no need to hide from me.'

Then he moved quickly, pulling back one of the long curtains that hung beside the window, revealing her, pressed against the wall, eyes wide with dread and hostility.

'Dio Mio!' he exclaimed. 'A ghost.'

He put out his hand and would have laid it on her shoulder, but she flinched away.

'Don't touch me,' she said hoarsely in English.

His hand fell at once.

'I'm sorry,' he replied, also in English. 'Don't be afraid of me. Why are you hiding?'

'I'm-not-hiding,' she said with an effort, knowing she sounded crazy. 'I just-didn't know who you were.'

'My name is Vincenzo, a friend of Piero's. I was here last night but you were asleep.'

'He told me about you,' she said jerkily, 'but I wasn't sure-'

'I'm sorry if I startled you.'

He was talking gently, soothing her as he would have done a wild animal, and gradually she felt her irrational fear subside.

'I heard you coming,' she said, 'and-' A fit of coughing drowned the rest.

'Come into the warm,' Vincenzo said, beckoning her to the stove.

When she still hesitated he took hold of her hands. His own hands were warm and powerful, and they drew her forward irresistibly.

He eased her down onto the sofa, but instead of releasing her he slid his hands up her arms and grasped her, not roughly but with a strength that felt like protection.

'Piero says your name is Julia.'

She hesitated for a split second. 'Yes, that's right. Julia.'

'Why are you trembling?' he asked. 'It can't be that bad.'