132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. " "Not in the least," replied Shotbolt, creeping beneath the table; "there's my staff. “Here, dis is for you. As Leonardo had himself pronounced, who better than a mountebank to teach of the perils awaiting the unwary? Who better than a wastrel to demonstrate the worth of thrift? And who could instruct better in the matter of affections than one who had thrown them away? ‘If he had loved me,’ she said, in the flat tone she had learned to use to conceal her vulnerable heart, ‘he would have left me at Remenham House to live a life of an English lady. Day after day she pounded him with curses, saying that her mother looked down on him from Heaven and sent a curse, to which he laughed.
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