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Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. It did affect the business that they all argued badly and were egotistical in their manners and inconsistent in their phrases. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. ‘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 Well Hole 336 XIII. “Gellett,” he called, “just come and clear up a mess, will you? I’ve smashed some things.
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