Leonardo had taught her pretty well everything she could have need to know, when they had talked long at his bedside. He did not look at her directly, though she fantasized that she could 141 feel his stares from the back of the class on occasion. Yet she never once thought of changing it. He looked melancholy enough, it is true. But something instinctive prevented that, and with the finest resolve not to be “silly” and prudish she found that whenever he became at all bold in this matter she became severely scientific and impersonal, almost entomological indeed, in her method; she killed every remark as he made it and pinned it out for examination. And on Monday and Tuesday she had failed to find him here. Plainly.
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