Anna felt that her words had become charged with a fuller and more subtle meaning than any which she had intended to impart. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Melusine stepped back a pace, her gaze fixed on the vision before her. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. She wasn’t sure of herself when she said it. When about to retire to rest, the rencounter with Jack Sheppard again recurred to him, and he half blamed himself for not acquainting Mr. " "But I'm a poor man. "Heard of your escapes. ” Anna drew out her purse at once.
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