I’ve been smoking cigarettes in the preparation-room and thinking this out. ’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me. ‘Who in the name of heaven is this Leonardo? And why did he kiss you?’ ‘He was an Italian soldier, and he wanted to kiss me,’ Melusine said, goaded. ’ The dagger was in her hand. It occurred to Ann Veronica once that she had known him when he was younger, but day had followed day, and each had largely obliterated the impression of its predecessor.
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