There were the burnt papers still in the grate. "He can't escape. She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. "I cannot remain here long. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. 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.
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