The problem had returned, made gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love. 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. “I’m glad you’re all right,” he said, “because we want you to do us a favour. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. She looked down at him and was amazed to see him erect again, amazed at the incredible virility that he possessed. For a short time they allowed me to share the warmth of their lives. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me.
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