She opened this and scrambled out—a thing she had not done for five long years of adolescence— upon the leaded space above the built-out bath-room on the first floor. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. "It's you, Jack, who are persuading my brother to do wrong. "Some dreadful deed is about to be committed, which I may perhaps prevent," muttered Jack to himself. She knew blood was rushing to his face and other places as well. “I think,” began Ann Veronica, “that you don’t realize—” He disregarded her entirely. His own peculiar genius—a miracle key to the hidden things in men's souls—had given him this immediate and astonishing illumination. Jack could hardly be accounted good-looking: Thames, on the contrary, was one of the handsomest boys possible. “Beautiful these autumn flowers are,” said Ann Veronica, in a wide, uncomfortable pause.
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