NINETEEN
His excitement propelled him across the piazza, his feet skipping upon the cobblestone courtyard, his pumpkin breeches and muffin hat flopping with each spirited step. The breeze threatened to snatch the puffy chapeau off his balding head and Galileo smacked one hand down upon it just in time. With his other, he clutched the strangely shaped leather satchel close to his chest, holding it within a protective embrace. The square teemed with people—tourists, courtiers, foreign ambassadors, and marketgoers— the evening bells would not ring for more than hour, and he feared a collision or, worse, the thieving hands of a street urchin.
At the base of the Staircase of Giants, he was met by a page, a young man in puffed trunks and tabard, who bowed without a word, extending his hand upw
