He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. But of what use to wear it when there was no one of importance to see and admire? ‘For shame, Melusine,’ protested Lucy, as the butler bowed himself out of the room. “Hello?” She asked as she cradled the phone by her ear. 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. Capes spoke casually of their plans for work. Look in the small hide-bound book that he keeps in his boot. That will be a fine day—it will have to be, when first you set eyes on Italy.
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