. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. ” Anna promptly alighted with the letter in her hand. ” She laughed softly. I admit it. I don’t think any surroundings could throw a shadow on you. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. It’s not you—not a bit. The country was partitioned in a similar manner. 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.
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