” He paused for a moment, and then suddenly continued. Here were the passionate lovers! What their past had been he neither cared nor craved to know. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. Melusine choked on a laugh, and Gerald at once seized the initiative, speaking in a tone deliberately soothing. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in. ’ This was Leonardo’s philosophy. “How shall I put the question? What am I? What have I got to do with myself?.
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