His face was downcast. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. I quickly ingratiated myself to Gianfrancesco, playing on his insecurities, drawing from his need for more and more power. ’—he’s frightfully anti-Mendelian—having it all their own way. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. . ’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key. ‘When one is penniless, one does not expect a life of ease.
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