Something, I'm convinced, has happened to the boys. Jonathan, however, still lingered. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. She forced herself not to think of John. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. The picture of Mary Remenham was still on the wall. ’ Gosse’s eyes went to the portrait, and evidently took in the uncanny resemblance, looking from it to Melusine and back again. "One whom you may perhaps have forgotten," replied the stranger, "but who can never forget the kindness he experienced at your hands, or at those of your excellent husband.
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