She says that everyone in the house makes too much noise, my Dad snores, and that when the house is empty, the traffic noise is nearly deafening. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. She found herself looking sheepishly around the bedroom when a sudden tingle of electricity moved from her groin, fanning out from her belly. It was a tale of battle, murder, and sudden death on the New York waterfront. 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. . “I thought every one had heard,” said Miss Klegg. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky.
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