Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour. They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight. 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. Perhaps that was why Sheila began to observe Lucy, because both of them were poignantly aware of Lucy’s otherness. She would not let her move. He was now as civil as he had just been insolent. It is to take place to-night. Maggot.
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