9. ’ ‘But he gives them to me. ” She whispered. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress. It is we who have become the parasites and toys. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ agreed Gerald with a grin. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. Leonardo he was my—’ ‘Don’t say it,’ Gerald cut in hoarsely.
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