” He smiled at her. ” “Have I done something wrong? Should I take you home?” “No. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. ” The figure of her aunt, a little distant, a little propitiatory, behind the coffee things, filled her with a sense of almost catastrophic adventure. The entrance of the house 85 was grand, and upon entering she was immediately greeted by John’s mother, a tall, thin woman quite a few years older than Cathy Beck. ’ ‘The horse?’ echoed Melusine. ’ ‘Ah. “Thank you. “You mean to follow her. 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. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910.
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