“My God!” he said again. What was the old tabby at? Unaccountably embarrassed, he cleared his throat. “You going to the Michelle’s place for dinner?” Mike asked Lucy after the bear hugs. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. As he anticipated, he was here comparatively screened from the fury of the wind; and when he gazed upon the roaring fall beneath him, visible through the darkness in a glistening sheet of foam, his heart overflowed with gratitude for his providential deliverance. She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent.
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