( A smile pulls the edges of her mouth in a line uncanny, all fang — ill-fitting on Vannozza's porcelain face. As if it were intended, perhaps, for broader lips.

She seems ruefully adept at reading between his lines. )

For the most part, brother. Then, they took parts of me. ( More laughter. ) So I would be sickened by the body and not reclaim it. Of course.

( And yet her good humour lingers. )

They were wrong! Very wrong. That body, this one. I have no trouble.