Dominic arrived at the train station a couple of days later, soaked to the bone. It had begun raining a few hours after he had left the sculpture shop, and he had been forced to purchase an umbrella for his walk home from the museum that afternoon. The next morning the rain had turned into a downpour, and he again made use of the umbrella as he walked through the courtyard of the Medici mansion. Walking back to his room that afternoon, the streets were full of deep puddles and his feet were soaked. He wished he had had room in his luggage to pack the boots he used in Michigan during the winter. They would have come in handy. He hadn’t thought they would be necessary.
“Are the trains running on time?” he asked at the ticket counter.
“There is, at this point, an hour delay. The storm is wo
