It doesn’t matter. Under her feet lay intricate mosaics, and each warm hall was festooned in tapestries. She had not nursed Leonardo for weeks for nothing. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. That would not help her. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. The doctor's lessons, perhaps delivered with too much serious emphasis, had destroyed that buoyant confidence in her ability to take care of herself. “I don’t know. Ann Veronica decided to be more explicit.
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