127 “But Mary Lucia, it isn’t what it looks like! She’s an old friend, there’s nothing serious going on!” Without a word, she about-faced and flew down his steps, running fast, jumping four steps at a time. “And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her. “I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. I want you. “Everybody seems to have it now. ’ ‘Yes, she will. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. Instantly I knew that I was going to run away that night before he returned from the neighbouring island. Nobody knows what his real name is, but he's a Hollander. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings.
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