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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. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. For a stunned moment, Emile did not speak. She was given a glimpse of his soul.
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