“It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna. You have somewhere to go to in London, I hope. Melusine did not attempt to speak. ” The housemaid’s presence acted as a useful restraint. “I am sure, Anna,” she said, “I do not see why we should conceal the truth from you. In any place her beauty would have been an uncommon thing. I'll not speak of Jack or Jonathan. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. Leonardo had not taught her to do so.
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