The library at eleven at night, and Melchiorre is at the far end of it with a lamp and a ledger, and he does not look up when the door opens.
"Sit down."
He turns a page.
"Not because I told you to. Because you came in here to say something and it will take longer standing up."
He closes the ledger, takes his glasses off, and waits with his hands flat on the table — which is the closest thing to an apology this house has produced in three years.
The library at eleven at night, and Melchiorre is at the far end of it with a lamp and a ledger, and he does not look up when the door opens.
"Sit down."
He turns a page.
"Not because I told you to. Because you came in here to say something and it will take longer standing up."
He closes the ledger, takes his glasses off, and waits with his hands flat on the table — which is the closest thing to an apology this house has produced in three years.