She is no longer mine; she is yours. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. The jolly part of it was that for the first time in her life so far as London was concerned, she was not going anywhere in particular; for the first time in her life it seemed to her she was taking London in. On the left lay the heights of Hampstead, studded with villas, while farther off a hazy cloud marked the position of the metropolis. As Leonardo had himself pronounced, who better than a mountebank to teach of the perils awaiting the unwary? Who better than a wastrel to demonstrate the worth of thrift? And who could instruct better in the matter of affections than one who had thrown them away? ‘If he had loved me,’ she said, in the flat tone she had learned to use to conceal her vulnerable heart, ‘he would have left me at Remenham House to live a life of an English lady. Run along while I rig up and get the part in my hair straight. Lucy went hunting on a Thursday night. They had chosen to deliberately and wickedly insult a lady who had done her best to entertain them for many weeks. Which was not to say that ladies were not interested in him. She had not seen Ramage for ten or eleven days, and she was quite ready for a gossip with him. Be kind to her.
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