Mr. If only—Anna, tell me,” she broke off suddenly, “how did you get to know Mr. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. To the practised eye of the waterman matters wore a very different air. ‘The more I hear about this Leonardo,’ Lucy said severely, ‘the more I want to meet your Melusine. Then she reverted to the trousers. “Has she ever thought of buying a pair of foam earplugs?” Lucy asked.
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