“Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely for this I have worked so hard. The beautiful city that she had been awed by and even grown to love had been abandoned. 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. She was not obliged to go to the Tredgold College, because as yet the College had not settled down for the session.
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