“But how can you?” asked Constance. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky. ” “Why did you tell me? I thought—I thought we were going to be friends. How I envied Gianfrancesco on his wedding night, how I writhed in agony just thinking 171 about his intimacies with you! Then you became pregnant, and there he was, posturing and gloating like the rest of the family, my divinations of a boy in your womb pronounced. She heard them diving after her, and noted their starting eyes as they spied the opened panel. What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you. Sometimes I think you would have been much better off if you had been born in death-worshipping Egypt instead of in the Fourteenth Century. Leonardo was to me perhaps like a father, not a lover as you think. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. You want me to be clean. “In that laboratory one gets to disregard these passions,” began Capes. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her.
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