Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said. “What year was 221 that, about 1350?” He asked in wonderment. Sebastian drank deeply and quickly of her blood. Upon my word—you are Miss Pellissier, aren’t you?” “I certainly am,” she admitted. “I must try the Directory. ’ ‘Only in hot blood, eh?’ grinned Gerald. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. “Thank you. Brendon and I returned from the ‘Unusual,’ and found him lying in my room shot through the lungs. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo.
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