cushions and bedding , whilst still entwined within each other ’ s arms , and he so lay there as that of a more virile , younger man , intoxicated by her beauty and the musky scent of her perfume .
It was mid-morning and the Mediterranean sun was high in the eastern sky when Palatino finally awoke . Still fully attired from the day before , he lay dishevelled on the same couch he ’ d spent the whole of the previous day and night upon . He was tired and agitated , and although having slept the best part of twelve hours in that of deep slumber , felt completely drained and devoid of any strength .
Partaking a bath , prepared him by Alberto and dressing in clean clothes , the Don then breakfasted out on the veranda upon freshly baked pastries and fruits picked from his own grove . Then whilst sitting behind that of his desk , gave way to his mind the contemplation of events which transpired , and still remained so vivid from the night before .
Looking along the well-stocked shelves of his library wall , he came upon that of an old leatherbound edition of the Catania book di records dated 1795 , containing an abridged transcription of the Giuseppe Mazzaglia trial . And whilst running strong fingers down its ancient pages , finally came upon the name he so searched , and was astonished to have never once in all those many years , realised the name of the second victim .
He had been so captivated by the history of Santina , he had totally overlooked , or mayhap not so much overlooked , more so disregarded the name of Vincenzo
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