Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile. “This party must be so boring for you. It was you! It was exactly you, but it was probably the photo they thought it was your mother! I dug it up after combing the Reader’s Guide To Periodical Literature for like, six hours straight. " "Faithful fellow!" murmured Jack. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying. ‘I know her, ma’am, but I know next to nothing of her story.
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