But it looked as if the boy was not going to be of much use. Her heart failed her and her resolution became water. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. ‘He lacked moral fibre, did Nicholas. She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her. Teenagers buzzed about her newly discovered talent for the violin in the same sentences as they gossiped about her torrid police scandal and a lost mother who remained in the deep shadows of murder mystery. How was I to know what would happen? He always said if he couldn’t get you a dowry, you could take the veil.
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