A cat came and rubbed herself against him as he entered the house, and seemed by her mewing to ask him for food. . There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. ‘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. “You had no right—” panted Ann Veronica. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. “I’ve thought about it.
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