She had not nursed Leonardo for weeks for nothing. ” She looked at him, pleading, miserable in her fancy gown. ’ He held his hands out of the way, surrendering his chest for her assault. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. ’ ‘He said!’ Melusine uttered scornfully. ‘A word, if you please, my friend. She acted as her mother had taught her to. She felt the warm nearness of his. I can’t even make myself care. Better even than these.
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