She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. Ennison listened, and his eyes glowed. “You see,” she said, very gently, “I AM going. Still, I suppose Melusine can always sell the house. 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. Yes—as he would have liked. “I am much obliged to you,” he said.
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