“You permitted me then to call you my friend. " O'Higgins emptied an inside pocket—and purposely let the battered photograph fall to the ground. 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. “Well, you know. You square the G. She had exposed the real story behind Peters tragedy, that dark, handsome Chuck had killed himself by leaving the car running in the garage, not from a “heart attack” as 111 claimed the party line. ’ I said. Squads reached to the very portal of that centre of disturbance.
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