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Her mother informed her of the betrothal on the first painful day of her menarche, shortly after her eleventh birthday. The house was full of aunts, uncles, and cousins meandering about, stuffed until their seams and zippers were bursting. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. Only I am not an acquaintance at all. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. 1. It was no use. . . “To the best of my belief, I have not a single English acquaintance in the city.
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