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. He seemed to have shrunken in his seat. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. She had found the mausoleum underneath a broken monument. . Monroe would lock the whole group of us in the basement, every day.
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