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first time, in a bed prepared with fresh linen. It was like making love to a figure painted by the hand of Veronese. Now that same figure frowned as he removed his leather jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair. She made a vast show of hanging it in the closet, then unzipped her overnight bag and began removing the contents. All the clothing was clean and painstakingly folded.
    “My mother insisted on doing my laundry before I left.”
    “She doesn’t think we have a washing machine?”
    “She’s a Venetian, Gabriel. She doesn’t believe it’s proper for a girl to live on a farm. Pastures and livestock make her nervous.” Chiara began placing the clean clothing in her dresser drawers. “So why weren’t you here when I arrived?”
    “I had a meeting.”
    “A meeting ? In Amelia? With whom?”
    Gabriel told her.
    “I thought you two weren’t speaking.”
    “We’ve agreed to let bygones be bygones.”
    “How lovely,” Chiara said coldly. “Did my name come up?”
    “Uzi’s miffed at you for failing to tell the desk that you were going to Venice.”
    “It was private.”
    “You know there’s no such thing as private when you work for the Office.”
    “Why are you taking his side?”
    “I’m not taking anyone’s side. It was a simple statement of fact.”
    “Since when have you ever given a damn about Office rules and regulations? You do whatever you want, whenever you want, and no one dares to lay a finger on you.”
    “And Uzi gives you plenty of preferential treatment because you’re married to me.”
    “I’m still angry with him for leaving you behind in Moscow.”
    “It wasn’t Uzi’s fault, Chiara. He tried to make me leave, but I wouldn’t listen.”
    “And you almost got yourself killed as a result. You would have been killed if it wasn’t for Grigori.” She lapsed into silence for a moment while she refolded two items of clothing. “Did you two have something to eat?”
    “Uzi devoured about a hundred pastries at Massimo. I had coffee.”
    “How’s his weight?”
    “He seems to be carrying some postnuptial happy pounds.”
    “You never gained any weight after we were married.”
    “I suppose that means I’m deeply unhappy.”
    “Are you?”
    “Don’t be silly, Chiara.”
    She slipped a thumb inside the waistband of her blue jeans. “I think I’m gaining weight.”
    “You look beautiful.”
    She frowned. “You’re not supposed to say I look beautiful . You’re supposed to reassure me that I’m not gaining weight.”
    “Your shirt is fitting you a little more tightly than normal.”
    “It’s Anna’s cooking. If I keep eating like this, I’m going to look like one of those old ladies in town. Maybe I should just buy a black frock now and get it over with.”
    “I gave her the night off. I thought it might be nice to be alone for a change.”
    “Thank God. I’ll make you something to eat. You’re too thin.” Chiara closed the dresser drawer. “So what brought Uzi to town?”
    “He’s making his semiannual tour of European assets. Patting backs. Showing the flag.”
    “Do I detect a slight bit of resentment in your voice?”
    “Why on earth would I be resentful?”
    “Because you should be the one making the grand tour of our European assets instead of Uzi.”
    “Traveling isn’t what it once was, Chiara. Besides, I didn’t want the job.”
    “But you’ve never been comfortable with the fact that they gave it to Uzi when you turned it down. You don’t think he has the intellect or the creativity for it.”
    “Shamron and his acolytes at King Saul Boulevard disagree. And if I were you, Chiara, I’d stay on Uzi’s good side. He’s likely to be the director one day.”
    “Not after Moscow. According to the rumor mill, Uzi was lucky to keep his job.” She sat at the edge of the bed and made a halfhearted effort to remove her right boot. “Help me,” she said, extending her foot toward Gabriel. “It won’t budge.”
    Gabriel took hold of