“You are not,” he said sharply, “but I am! Kindly remember, Atalanta, that I am important because I own an ancient and respected title and I shall be much more important when I become Ambassador to Vallon. For Heaven’s sake be careful that you do not disgrace me.”
Atalanta pressed her lips together.
She wanted to argue with William and she wanted to tell him how beautiful and how exciting she found the Impressionists’ pictures she had seen and then she knew that it would do no good and would merely infuriate him.
Perhaps some of the Impressionists were really as bad as they were made out to be.
But Paul was different.
She knew even without asking him that he neither drank nor took drugs. She knew that he was upright and honest, true and decent, a man she could trust. But what was the
