She was too late. 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. But, say we're friends. ’ ‘We are not all of us so empty-headed, Melusine,’ pleaded Miss Froxfield. He seemed wholly insensible to the rain, though it presently descended in torrents, and continued his search as ardently as before. Lost ground must be regained. This is your moment. Basically a kindly man but made cynical and derisive by sordid contacts, O'Higgins had almost forgotten that there was such a thing as unselfishness. It was no use. Perhaps, after all, the others were right. Mama will be expecting me.
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