He wanted to know what the joke against him was—if any. Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality. She had never felt so acutely the desire for free initiative, for a life unhampered by others. “Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent living. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. I speak frankly, because you also know that no possible extremity would induce me to accept help from any living person. ’ This was Leonardo’s philosophy.
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