Noting her widened eyes. Rose said, “That noise you’re hearing is a tara ming—a nocturnal monkey. He’s a pet of sorts. Shy, but he’ll come around for a taste of fruit or honey from the kitchen.” “I’d love to see him.” “Ryan, show Isadora out to the patio,” Rose said. “No, really,” Isadora began, quickly changing her mind. Rose’s suggestion bore a nightmarish resemblance to the well-meaning matchmakers of Boston, forever trying to pair her up with mortified young men. “It’s not nec” — “I don’t mind.” Ryan pushed his chair from the table. She searched his face to see if he wore the look of those doomed suitors. ‘ “You can stop in the kitchen for a pail of food,” Rose suggested. “The monkey is sure to be prowling about the garden.” Torches illuminated the stone-paved area which formed the heart of the villa. Low arches flanked the patio, and one side had no wall but a wrought iron fence and a huge, unusual tree with a twisted trunk that resembled straining sinew and branches that grew almost horizontally out from it.
