“The face—so terrible.”
“The Duchess’s face?”
“The statue’s. It changed after—“
“After?”
“It was put here.”
“The statue’s face changed—?”
He mistook my bewilderment for incredulity and his confidential finger dropped from my sleeve. “Eh, that’s the story. I tell what I’ve heard. What do I know?” He resumed his senile shuffle across the marble. “This is a bad place to stay in—no one comes here. It’s too cold. But the gentleman said, I must see everything!”
I let the lire sound. “So I must—and hear everything. This story, now—from whom did you have it?”
His hand stole back. “One that saw it, by God!”
“That saw it?”