The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. Leonardo had taught her pretty well everything she could have need to know, when they had talked long at his bedside. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. He could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house. . She is English, and apparently in some distress. Jove, he didn’t take to it kindly, I can tell you. Each arm of the blouse had the faintest of rings around the elbow, a stain that looked familiar.
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