One thing—he could be thankful for that—the peak of his misfortunes had been reached; the world might come to an end now and not matter in the least. 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. ’ Gerald raised his brows. " She departed reluctantly.
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