He was always anticipating, stepping into the future, torturing himself with non-existent troubles. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. “You would be wise to loosen your purse-strings, Gianfrancesco. ’ She turned, her eyes narrowed. “I wish I could make every woman, every girl, see this as clearly as I see it—just what the Vote means to us. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. That’s really our choice now, defy—or futility. She washed her face twice after making smudgy eyeshadow and lipstick errors.
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