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. God, Lucy, that’s the stuff people wear to Phys. When she slipped off of it her head started to bob, filled with air. It was Annabel who spoke.
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