It seemed to her in her restored geniality that she liked Manning extremely. He removed his cocked hat and came towards her. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. ” “Then you had better ring the bell,” she declared, laughing. Manning had shown on previous occasions that he found Ann Veronica interesting and that he wished to interest her. She had a better voice than I, and the rest I suppose is only a trick. Let me keep him. He had mentioned teaching her how to read Latin one day when she had wandered into the library. She did not want to feel such negative emotion towards any member of her foster family. It was shameful, but again, her mother had prepared her for it. The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes. Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants.
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