When at first she had realized that he 206 had conducted a sexual affair with a local well-known Florentine courtesan she called him out, accusing him of exposing her to an array of diseases. They're on the forward lounge in the saloon. "Somebody ought to get hold of that young man," said Prudence, grimly, as she nodded in Spurlock's direction. She had better escape if she can. She was a lone white woman, therefore marked. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. She stared. It seemed to her at this moment that there was nothing left for her to do. ‘You!’ ‘Yes, it is I, mademoiselle,’ he continued in his own tongue.
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