But he refused to let her thank him.

'It comes easily to me,' he assured her. 'I used to be a top physician at Milan's largest hospital.'

'As well as being a great chef?' she teased him.

He gave her a reproachful look. 'That was the other night.'

'I'm sorry. I should have thought.'!

She knew that Vincenzo sometimes came to visit, but she always lay still, feigning sleep. She did not want to talk to him. He threatened secrets that she must keep.

But he too had painful secrets. He'd hinted as much.

Every second afternoon Piero would go out, returning three hours later. He never told her where he went, and she guessed that these occasions were connected with the events that had brought him to this limbo.

One afternoon he entered wearing his usual cheerful look, which became even brighter when he saw her.

'Did you find what you were looking for?' she ventured.

'Not today. She wasn't there, but she will be one day.'

'She?'

'Elena, my daughter. Ah, coffee! Splendid!'

She respected his desire to change the subject, but later, when the darkness had fallen, she asked gently,

'Where is Elena now?'

He was silent for so long she was afraid he was offended, but then he said, 'It's hard to explain. We sort of-mislaid each other. But she's worked abroad a great deal, and I've always been there to meet her when she returned. Always the same place, at San Zaccaria-that's the landing stage where the boats come in near St Mark's. If I'm not there she'll want to know why, so I mustn't let her down. I just have to be patient, you see.'

'Yes,' she said sadly. 'I see.'

She wrapped the blanket around her and settled down, hoping that soon her mind would start working properly again, and she would know what to do next.

Then she wondered if that would ever happen, for when she closed her eyes the old pictures began to play back, and there was only grief, misery, despair, followed by rage and bitterness, so that soon she was hammering on the door again, screaming for a release that would never come.