’ ‘Who is that?’ demanded Lucilla eagerly. They were now both in a state of unprecedented physical fitness. The Palazzo was unlike anything she had ever known. “It’s still a marvel to me that we are to be forgiven,” she said, turning. They slow danced to a Bon Jovi ballad. He stopped in mid-sentence, and Ann Veronica opened the door for her aunt. The agonized mother could scarcely repress a scream at the spectacle that met her gaze. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. “Nigel, don’t you understand. Find the thing you want to do most intensely, make sure that’s it, and do it with all your might. She turned on the lad with her, who was visibly relieved. Not all of us, but some of us. She had thought to wear it now, since she must look more the demoiselle.
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