* * *
Parent Girolamo piled up all his sermon reports in to a heap on the work desk and checked the couvre-feu was on the coals before retiring to their bed.
By the he was still worrying, wanting to fathom what to do concerning the courtesan Giulia Tofana early morning. But Giulia was already up and dressed. He eyed her warily. A lady inside a priest house wearing a dress that is elaborate that could induce gossip, or even worse.
He remembered that his housekeeper had left her old work clothes behind, in the clothes press – the ones she employed for scrubbing the tiled floors as he stirred their early morning ale. He hurried to fetch all of them.
‘Here,’ he said, handing her the pile of garments. ‘These will make you less…’
‘Less of the courtesan,’ she said.
‘Well, not really, but le
