‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs. “She has been to my flat before. ’ ‘Do you indeed?’ rejoined the old lady, twinkling at him, and urging him towards the door. “You look more like your old self when you smile,” he remarked. I swear it. Hear me then, now, before I take one step to establish my origin, or secure my rights. I am not going to be a chorus girl, or even a super. Hers were less noble, yet stately. Jackson, mean time, produced a pocket-book; and, after deliberately sharpening the point of a pencil, began to write on a blank leaf. I know the Dutch.
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