She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. There’s that old gentleman at the end of the table—Bullding his name is. “I was half hoping that I might be allowed to see you home. Before he forced an entrance, Jack tried it, and, to his great surprise and delight, found it unfastened. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. All seemed infected with Austin's terrors except Mrs.
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