A spacious suite of rooms down the hall John described as “my parents love den” with a grimace as Lucy smiled. She smiled. “How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties. . I do not blame you for the act. It would have been better had he succeeded in murdering her, she thought. In the hall below she could hear his firm voice giving quick commands to the servants. He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. That was Leonardo’s motto. ” “Why in Heaven’s name should I forget?” he cried.
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