‘I see that Leonardo was right. I promised to put him in touch with some people in Rome, an idea which he warmed to. Selecting a key from the heavy bunch committed to him by Austin, he threw open the door, and beheld Blueskin seated at the back of the small chamber, handcuffed, and with his feet confined in a heavy pair of stocks. Too late she realised that Emile was not trying to escape. Let's go up and see how the patient is doing. Rather would I have gone with Leonardo—and he wished me to do so. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. Lucy kissed him on the cheek. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. “Thank you.
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