'Yes,' she whispered.

'I haven't scared you, have I? Surely you don't believe in ghosts?'

'Not that kind of ghost,' Julia said softly.

He started the supper. By now the fire was burning merrily, so he fixed a grid over the burning wood, and used this to heat coffee.

'There's some sausages too,' he said. 'I cook them over the flames on forks. And I have rolls here. I have a friend with a restaurant, and he gives me yesterday's bread.'

When they were both settled and eating, she said, 'Why did you take me in? You know nothing about me.'

'I know that you needed help. What else is there to know?'

She understood. He had welcomed her into the fellowship of the dispossessed where nothing had to be told. The past did not exist.

So now she was officially a down-and-out. It was not such a bad thing to be. After the way she'd spent the last few years it might even be a step up.

'Here,' she said, reaching into a bag and bringing out a very small plastic bottle, containing red wine. 'The man next to me on the plane left it behind, so I took it.'

'Would it be indelicate to ask if you obtained the plane ticket in the same way?'

She gave a real smile then.

'Believe it or not, I didn't steal it,' she said. 'If you go to the right airline you can get a ticket from England to Venice for almost nothing. But when you get off the plane-' She shrugged.

'You can find winter prices in the hotels now,' Piero pointed out.

'Even so, I'm not spending a penny that I don't have to,' she said in a voice that was suddenly hard and stubborn. 'But I'll pay my way here,' she added.

'Cheaper than a hotel,' he agreed, waving a sausage.

'And the surroundings are grand. You can tell it's the real thing.'

'Know a bit about palaces, do you?'

'I've worked in a few,' she said cautiously. 'I'm surprised someone hasn't bought this to turn it into a luxury hotel.'