The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. There was a little pain, but it wasn’t anything. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. After a long fifteen seconds, she pulled her head back into the seat, looking at his face from the close angle, his nose huge and out of perspective, his eyes like round blue pearls. "I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United States. She tore open the envelope and read it. Her patience was waning fast. . He had mentioned teaching her how to read Latin one day when she had wandered into the library. She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. Immediately a feathered hat emerged, under which a familiar countenance was visible.
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