It was not only Leonardo who had instilled in her this distrust of men. It gave her joy to see them laughing, even though she was unsure of what she had done wrong. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. You may enjoy your pride, your arrogance—in a coffin. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. ’ She glared at Hilary. The Times slipped from his fingers. Armed, however, with the implement he had so fortunately obtained, he did not despair of success.
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