Then, I thought, she has repented, all will be well. ’ ‘Don’t you believe it. “Thanks, I’m not very fond of coffee,” Anna answered, “and I hate music. “You know about my scandalous past?” “Very little. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself. Let—it—fall. 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. You, for instance, you live, you are not afraid to live.
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