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Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. ‘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 if there is one, how in the world did this mystery lady of yours know of it?’ ‘That, Lucy, is precisely the point that has been exercising my mind,’ Gerald said, turning his eyes once more to the group of French exiles in the alcove. Let her have her own way in all things, for she will always be just. Besides, he was a Yale man.
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