McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and Spurlock into his coffee cup. She auditioned and got a summer job teaching violin at the Mozart summer music camp for children, catching the luckiest of breaks. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. “You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. Babies produced of vampire women are the real monsters, Lucia. A familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her belly.
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