’ ‘What of your grandfather?’ Her lips parted in surprise. ‘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. Whoever chose to incur the risk of so doing might enter the Mint at any hour; but no one was suffered to depart without giving a satisfactory account of himself, or producing a pass from the Master. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. “I suppose all life is an affair of chances.
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