Today,’ Said Lymond, ‘if You Must Know,

[robin Stewart] Was Your Man. True For You, You Had Withdrawn The Crutch From His Sight, But Still It Should Have Been There In Your Hand, Ready For Him. For You Are A Leader-don't You Know It? I Don't, Surely, Need To Tell You?-and That Is What Leadership Means. It Means Fortifying The Fainthearted And Giving Them The Two Sides Of Your Tongue While You Are At It. It Means Suffering Weak Love And Schooling It Till It Matures. It Means Giving Up You Privicies, Your Follies And Your Leasure. It Means You Can Love Nothing And No One Too Much, Or You Are No Longer A Leader, You Are Led.

What’s Wrong? Has Francis Been Rude? Then You Must Try To Overlook It. I Know You Wouldn’t Think So, But He Is Thoroughly Upset By Tom Erskine’s Death; And When Francis Is Troubled He Doesn’t Show It, He Just Goes And Makes Life Wretched For Somebody.

It Was One Of The Occasions When Lymond Asleep Wrecked The Peace Of Mind Of More People Than Lymond Awake.

For An Hour, Blended With All She Could Offer, Something Noble Had Been Created Which Had Nothing To Do With The Physical World. And From The Turn Of His Throat, The Warmth Of His Hair, The Strong, Slender Sinews Of His Hands, Something Further; Which Had. Though She Combed The Earth And Searched Through The Smoke Of The Galaxies There Was No Being She Wanted But This, Who Was Not And Should Not Be For Philippa Somerville.

To The Men Exposed To His Rule Lymond Never Appeared Ill: He Was Never Tired; He Was Never Worried, Or Pained, Or Disappointed, Or Passionately Angry. If He Rested, He Did So Alone; If He Slept, He Took Good Care To Sleep Apart. “—i Sometimes Doubt If He’s Human,” Said Will, Speaking His Thought Aloud. “it’s Probably All Done With Wheels.