‘Hollow. ” His eyes were burning. It had been intensified and corrupted by time, as if to add insult to injury. I told her it was the end. 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. " "Your esteem is all he will require," urged Winifred.
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