CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Mary Shelley
250 Riviera di Chiaia
Naples, Italy
May 1819
My precious confidant,
All logic fails me, and so I simply must state the occurrences of early yesterday morning through last evening without edit. I have not slept since my previous quickly dashed letter to you. Please forgive me the weariness of my words.
The morning was overcast and threatening as only a London sky can be when myself and Master Aldridge arrived at my home from St. Martin-in-the-Fields. He was exhausted and so I laid him in my bed. Meanwhile, I stood by the window to watch over him, bewildered beyond the capacity of my knowledge.
I remained at the window for hours, the curtains drawn, the room dark, my breathing slow and paced in measure with Master Aldridge’s as he slumbered. It was la
