“Cheers match jeers,
“Cheers match jeers,As do tears and fears”
As do tears and fears”If Leonardo had been a young child instead of a young man, he would have clapped his hands with delight at the sight of the apothecary shop on the Ponte Vecchio. Its flap was up and secured on poles, its door a wide-open and inviting maw. Just nearing it, one could smell the tang of herbs, the perfume of berried potions, and the sharpness of linseed oil. It was all there, especially artists’ supplies.
Leonardo doffed his brimmed beretto, squinting into the dark and crowded interior. He sighed at the onslaught of aromas—so familiar, so beloved.
beretto, “Leonardo! You are here. How wonderful!”
“And happy I am to be here!” Leonardo returned the joyful greeting, spotting Dario Barbieri behind the counte
