It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. She felt her chest trying to float up, but the blessed undertow, the dreaded reason why she was warned to never bathe in the ocean, sucked her feet down, putting the decision where it belonged, into the hands of God. Gerald raised a questioning eyebrow. Blueskin, you are a true friend. Good-looking girl. Entering the Lodge, the first person he beheld was Austin, who was only just up, and whose toilette appeared scarcely completed. Ennison was deeply interested. ” She played with her hair.
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