第23章 (第2/3页)
a distracted him from this experiment in the power of mind over matter.
Maria, it seemed, was pluming herself on his mental health very much as The Midget was pluming herself on his physical improvement. She was delighted that her pokings-about with James in the print shop had been so effective.
'Have you decided on Perkin Warbeck, then?' she asked.
'No. Not Warbeck. Tell me: what made you bring me a portrait of Richard III? There's no mystery about Richard, is there?'
'No. I suppose we took it as illustration to the Warbeck story. No, wait a moment. I remember. James turned it up and said: "If he's mad about faces, there's one for, him!" He said: "That's the most notorious murderer in history, and yet his face is in my estimation the face of a saint".'
'A saint!' Grant said; and then remembered something.
"Over-conscientious," he said.
'What?'
'Nothing. I was just remembering my first impressions of it. Is that how it seemed to you: the face of a saint?'
She looked across at the picture, propped up against the pile of books. 'I can't see it against the light,' she said, and picked it up for a closer scrutiny.
He was, suddenly reminded that to
（本章未完，请点击下一页继续阅读）