A young man, who had been spending the last hour walking up and down on the opposite side of the way, came quickly over to her. ‘As for you—’ ‘Do not address me. 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. “No thanks. But, like all your overbearing sex, you must have your own way. Where were you married?” “At the English Embassy in Paris. The girl is in it as deeply as he is. It’s the public entrance. I want to make my own selection.
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