On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. ‘Tell me, my boy. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. Seconded by his strength and temper, his skill rendered him invincible and he is reputed never to have lost a battle. All of which proves that the doctor also had his moments of distraction, with this difference: he was not distracted from his subject matter. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. Enjoy. Leonardo he was my—’ ‘Don’t say it,’ Gerald cut in hoarsely.
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