As Leonardo had himself pronounced, who better than a mountebank to teach of the perils awaiting the unwary? Who better than a wastrel to demonstrate the worth of thrift? And who could instruct better in the matter of affections than one who had thrown them away? ‘If he had loved me,’ she said, in the flat tone she had learned to use to conceal her vulnerable heart, ‘he would have left me at Remenham House to live a life of an English lady. Hurry to me, I entreat you. He shrugged and, to Gerald’s relief, made to leave at last. But I wanted to find out more, partly so I could share it with him. He destroyed her clumsily made dolls whenever he found them. Suppose her father turned her out of doors! She did not care, she meant to go.
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