Pomona had once drunk coffee at Caffè Florian in St. Mark's Square, Venice.
They said Paris also had a Caffè Florian, and it was highly popular according to travel magazines. She wondered whether one had existed in Paris at the beginning of the nineteenth century.
She sat up groggily. Perhaps because she had drunk coffee before bed, she felt caught between dreaming and waking.
She looked at the view beyond the window. Laplace had sent her back to the Jardin des Plantes again. Actually, this was quite good—she would not have to rush here when the party began in the afternoon.
The assassins from last night had not frightened her much. They were only three Muggles. She was merely disappointed in the municipal guard's defenses; they had actually let them slip in so easily.
The issue of "moral decay" had existed ever since construction began on the Ourcq Canal. People feared that, once an abundant water supply had met everyday needs, it would be abused, just like the Romans' luxurious baths.
There was a bathhouse at the worksite, where canal workers could wash after finishing work. Once the workers took off their dirty clothes before bathing, they could hand them directly to the washerwomen to be cleaned. That was where the "problem" arose.
One little inn after another opened around the canal. Later, it was no longer just washerwomen; Parisians did not need to wait for water to reach every home before witnessing the depravity brought by this Eastern way of life.
People in the Middle Ages stopped bathing altogether. Besides backward infrastructure, this was also one reason. Even the pentagram representing Venus became a symbol of demons.
Georgiana stretched. Though she seemed to have many things left to do, she planned to practice some yoga.
Aquinas believed that humans