My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. The room was intimate and wonderful to her with its shadows now cast over the girlish menagerie of stuffed animals. The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. “I did it for love of you,” he said. "See how glad he is!" His irony and displeasure subsided. ‘And just who is Leonardo?’ ‘How in God’s name should I know?’ demanded Roding irascibly. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. . She went to the table under the end window at which she had been accustomed to work, and found it swept and garnished with full bottles of re-agents.
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