" At the door of this tavern, which was situated on the left of the street, not more than a hundred yards distant from the church, the bell of which began to toll as soon as the procession came in sight, the cart drew up, and the whole cavalcade halted. ’ I don’t know what you’d call it —a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. Michelle walked up the concrete porch steps, gesturing to Lucy to do the same.
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