“No. Never married.”

She sniffed, and I couldn’t decide if being never married was a good thing or a bad one. She led me through from a square hallway to a living room. Whereas my recent experience had been of spartan surroundings, this room was the opposite: velvet drapes, swathes and swags, overstuffed chairs, knick-knacks on every shelf and table. It took me a moment to realize that the knick-knacks were all of a religious nature: statues of saints, crucifixes, a painting of Jesus with the little children, with a rosary draped over it. I noticed then that the one adornment on her person was a large silver cross.

“Sit down.” She pointed to one of the armchairs. It looked so soft and full of crocheted pillows that I wondered if I’d ever be able to get out again, but I sat, obediently. Almost immediately I let out a little gasp of alarm as something brushed against the back of my neck.

“Don’t mind him. That’s only Bruno,” she said as a large grey cat walked along the arm of the chair, rubbing against me. “He is just checking you over. If he takes to you, then I can decide that you are all right. He is a good judge of character.” She was still studying me. “You like cats?”

I wasn’t going to say that Aunt Hortensia had an absolutely vile cat that she had brought to live with my mother. It hid under chairs and pounced on to ankles as we went past and was making my mother’s dog miserable.

“I haven’t had much to do with them,” I said, erring on the side of tact. “My mother has a dog who is very sweet.”

“Well, he seems to like you. I’ll show you to your room.”

I struggled to get up again, and she led me down a dark hallway to a room at the end. It was also a little overdecorated but quite acceptable. A bed with a red velvet coverlet, a huge wardrobe and matching mahogany chest of drawers, and in the window a desk and chair. I went over to it, and my heart gave a little leap. I could actually see a sliver of the Grand Canal from here!

“Oh yes,” I said. “It will suit me very well.”

She nodded, then beckoned me to follow her. “The bathroom is across the hall.”

It contained an enormous claw-footed tub as well as a basin. The lavatory was next door.

“There will be only you and me,” she said, “but please do not fill the bath too full. And I should instruct you on the geyser.” She indicated a contraption over the bath. “The hot tap needs to be turned on very slowly at first until the flame has lit, and then you can turn it up. If you turn too fast, it explodes. Dangerous.”

It certainly did sound dangerous.