‘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. But something instinctive prevented that, and with the finest resolve not to be “silly” and prudish she found that whenever he became at all bold in this matter she became severely scientific and impersonal, almost entomological indeed, in her method; she killed every remark as he made it and pinned it out for examination. A day will come when you will thank me. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. The burden of decision had been transferred. . 6 Chiu Ping le, Chiu Yam Street.
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