’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. But ——” A look checked him. ’ ‘Aha, you have found something out. ” Miss Ellicot swept aside her skirts from the vacant chair and welcomed the newcomer with one of her most engaging smiles. “It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself.
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