Later, when they returned home, she would serve as the topic of many conversations. “I did not recognize him,” Anna answered. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. ‘I know, Melusine. About halfway across this interval, when everything seemed going well, Capes had a shock. She fell into a pleasant dream of positions and work. Her head dipped deeply into the current, and she narrowly escaped being swamped.
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