’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words. On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. “We can be alone?” She inquired. 48 <6> THE FRIDAY NIGHT SHOW The air was chill and the sky overcast and misting. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. ” “I suppose I must have thought so.
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