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As coffee was served by liveried footmen in the library of Palazzo Tornabuoni, John walked over to the window and gazed out on the enormous private garden. Here was his preferred vision of nature – seen through a glass darkly and tended to by someone else. After a suitable interval, he turned round and surveyed the room: Alice, now the centre of attention, was purring between Barone Tornabuoni and Sir Christopher; Mrs Hollingsworth, off to one side, was desperately trying to converse with Alice Varrow’s sister, Trixie Giraldi; Montgomery Woodstoke, Tommy Tornabuoni’s once good-looking kept boy, was brushing back his tinted mane with one hand, whilst fondling a cigarette with the other; the haughty Duchessa de’ Portinari and her even more disobliging moustachioed niece, Mrs Bentley-Gordo
