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“Well, I didn’t fall asleep and crash your car in the mountains, so maybe it does have miraculous powers”

“Caffeine,” she said “Caffeine has these powers, too Do you want a coffee?”

“No coffee, thanks But I’d love a cup of tea, if you don’t mind” She turned toward the kitchen “Oh, Elisabeth, before I forget You’re an artist Did you study art history, too?”

“Only a little”

“I have a friend — she’s an anthropologist and an artist — who thinks that the Shroud of Turin was made by Giotto”

“A painting by Giotto?” She wrinkled her forehead and frowned “No, I don’t think so The picture, the ilish word?…thin? Not the host, al”

“You’re right,” I agreed “Not paint Dust Pig” I pretended to sprinkle powder into inary surface

“Ah!” There it was again, the char it made me smile “Red ochre I think it is possible”

“Do you know if Giotto ever worked in Avignon?”

She shrugged “Pfft I don’t know Peut-être—maybe Artists came from all over Europe to paint at the palais Also at the livrées of the cardinals There were many walls to decorate, and much money to collect Artists come to money like flies come to honey”

I laughed “I thought all artists were poor and starving”

“Most artists are starving But if the pope likes you, you will never go hungry”

When Elisabeth returned withthe cup on a pair of books: a lavish coffee-table art book about Giotto, and a smaller book, which she opened once I lifted the cup from it “Vies des Artists,” she said “The Lives of the Artists By Vasari You know Vasari?” I shook io Vasari Italian Sixteenth century He raphy and history”

“A regular Renaissance man,” I punned, then worried that the joke wouldn’t translate

She laughed “Ah, bon” She checked the smaller book’s contents, then flipped to a chapter “So Vasari writes this about Giotto He says, ‘When Clenon, Giotto came with him And while he was here, he made many beautiful pictures and frescoes, which pleased the pope and the entire court very much And so, when the as all finished, the pope sent hiifts Giotto was rich and honored and famous’ You see,” she said with a smile, “I told you: If the pope likes you, you don’t starve”

“Ah,” I said

CHAPTER 16

Itis fronon period, but I felt sure the library would have a lad to have another occasion to visit the former cardinal’s palace, which was now a palace of books

The building was fronted by a square courtyard, which was open to the street but was flanked on its other three sides by ain the shape of a loide U The tings see’s h — three very tall stories of pale, putty-colored stone, topped by crenellations Unlike the battlements atop the Palace of the Popes, the crenellations here appeared e, but not fortified, and the ilass s in its façade would have posed no barrier to attack

I entered through a large glass door at the center of the building Directly inside was a foyer with aupward One floor up, I entered theroom — once a cardinal’s banquet hall, it now served up a feast of books — and made for the reference desk There I found the helpful librarian Philippe on duty again He snition “Bonjour, monsieur Are you back for more research on Eckhart?”

“Not this time,” I answered “Art history this time Do you have any books on the artist Giotto? An Italian painter Giotto di…” I floundered for the last name