They went to the gate and stopped there, gabbed with their men, and didn’t even dismount. Cathy had not even noticed that she herself was wet and trailing water everywhere. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. The bolder members in the House left their places to go lobbyward, grinning. Brendon felt his arm seized. "Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard.
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