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. If he stayed in the basement apartment as was his usual habit, she would have no problem. More than half the city perished. But she no longer obsessed over heresy, no longer did she feel cursed by God.
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