So, here he was, on the last lap of middle age, in China, having missed all the thrills in life except one—the war against Death. I have a different game to play; and it'll be your own fault, if you don't come off the winner. 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.
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