” He slipped off the horse. Did you realize?\" Lucy's mouth twisted into a half-smile that she could not help. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked.
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