Leonardo had taught her pretty well everything she could have need to know, when they had talked long at his bedside. “Who is the tenant of these rooms?” he inquired. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Here was a terrific figure gnashing his teeth, and howling like a wild beast;—there a lover, with hands clasped together and eyes turned passionately upward. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand.
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