A silver necklace enhanced the dusky beauty of her neck. Eh? Banging against the old rollers—that'll put some life into us both. She thought of the smiles she would gather when she brought forth his first grandson. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. “I didn’t know you were half-Gypsy either. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light.
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