To think of him as loving her would make all that different. Leonardo was to me perhaps like a father, not a lover as you think. She would stare if she knew the full sum of Melusine’s activities. ‘You don’t mind if I sit down?’ She considered him a moment, her head a little on one side. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. The Scot understood that, gently and indirectly, Ruth was asking her husband a question, opening a door if he cared to enter. Ann Veronica felt no repulsion at the prospect.
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