Gerald guessed she was biting her tongue on an explosive retort as she eyed him. “Been and married?. “What are you two whispering about?” She turned towards Martin. Glad to get back, I’m sure,” he said briskly. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it.
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