’ ‘You speak it very well,’ Gerald said encouragingly. These daughters! He gnawed his pen and reflected, tore the sheet up, and began again. And yet, at the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to consciousness. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. The doctor nodded. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. I just suppose it isn’t worth the trouble. ‘You see, Melusine, that none of our visitors were as informed as they would wish to be. ‘Who in the name of heaven is this Leonardo? And why did he kiss you?’ ‘He was an Italian soldier, and he wanted to kiss me,’ Melusine said, goaded. . . A tarnish of constraint that had recently spread over her intercourse with Capes vanished again.
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