Leonardo was to me nothing at all. And yet it was basically a fine action. The clever hostess having let fall that several distinguished guests from France would be present, the world had flocked to her doors to catch, like the gossip-hungry vultures they were, a glimpse of them. She thought of how tired she was, how exhausted, how hungry. “You did not wish to see him particularly this evening, then?” Anna hesitated. Good riddance to bad rubbish.
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