“You did your best to kill me,” he said. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. “I am going to ask for your forgiveness. Every moment or two he bent over his patient. He loved you. But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair. “You are not boring me,” she said, “but I would rather talk of something else. " The doctor ran his fingers through his hair, despairingly. She owed the nun a great deal, including her command of English, for no one else thought to ensure she could speak her mother tongue. I had not the time to formulate the decoctions that would have saved him— they take weeks to create and must come from your own blood! You were perilously close to death, and had I not watched you constantly for the week you were unconscious they would have buried you alive! Gianfrancesco was ready to give up after two days, 172 ready to throw you in the plague cart! Of course he had no use for you after bearing witness to the loss of your womanly organs. To many in that crowded solitude it came as an extraordinary relief.
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