For every Eden, there will be a serpent; for every sheepfold, there will be a wolf. 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. John moved closer to her, getting up from his roost by one bench, he joined her at the bench where she sat.
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