’ He shifted unguardedly, and hissed a breath, wincing. It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing. But then the features changed. Come, come, be reasonable, and listen to me. She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock. He seemed to be. In fact, it would not surprise me to discover that they were both Leonardo’s. There is no Heaven for your mother. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. In a moment they were in the street outside.
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