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She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. She controlled herself, and answered meekly, “No. So she took up Stevenson and began to read aloud. But her tears had been for Leonardo’s expulsion, and the loss of his companionship. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. If I had never met anything of you at all but a scrap of your skin binding a book, Ann Veronica, I know I would have kept that somewhere near to me.
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