" Neither spinster noticed the reluctance in the tones. His literary instincts began to stir. Chapter Two ‘Our French friends are beginning to form quite a little coterie,’ remarked Gerald, covertly studying the group gathered in an alcove at the other side of Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom. The lights rolled over, and were extinguished. Leonardo was to me perhaps like a father, not a lover as you think. He was full of fabulous stories, not just tales of his own past in Rome but wonderful fables from the mysterious Orient and the ancient Greeks, old jokes and yarns that only he remembered. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. ’ ‘How can you say so?’ protested Melusine.
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