If he decided to watch television upstairs with his mother, she would probably retire before he did, but she was a light sleeper. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light. When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s. “That’s not. The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements.
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