Ann
Veronica stared at his foolish, propitiatory smile, his hungry gaze, through one
moment of amazement, then stepped aside and went on her way with a
quickened step. 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. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. Mrs. “I’m sorry. "You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. The Iron Bar
397
XVIII. ”
“It is,” he replied, “the one humiliation of my life. "I used to cry myself to sleep, Hoddy, I was so forlorn and lonely.
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