- Sunday, August 3

f closed, the sea oats nodding on the dunes and the tourists a rumor. The great houses stood along

a ripe peach, a loggia of twenty arches, and out back, across a lawn as green as money, a private dock

seat of the Plymouth. "It looks

like somebody's about to a

lange said. "You will wear sh

drink, and you will n

ay what

say what i

why they call

door before the engine had finished dying, and Solange, stepping out in her second-bes

ho had decided at thirty to stop aging out of sheer discipline. Silver-blond hair in a perfect chignon. A cream silk blouse, a rope of pearls,

cked. "Mrs. Marsh. Welcome

Mrs. Crane," Solange said,

ur rooms are in the west wing. The separate rooms, I understand. I took the liberty

cold. Beside her, sh

vate matter

d her tea. "You will find we dine at eight. Preston will join us, and the board's

hat she likes,

slid over Solange's dress, he

l be ch

k, and Solange had been receiving them in

y that I am sorry for your loss. Mr. Crane was very ki

oved behind the silk. It was ve

He was kind to a great many pe

he silent reproach of a ghost. Preston Cranesat at the head, because someone had to, with his father's chair vacant at the other

a glass of Bordeaux. "Gideon. I wan

e are

age. The bank is hounding you." He sipped. "Believe me, no one i

down her for

veni

lue, friendly, and as empty as a swimming pool. "Pruitt tell

is delightful. Haitian French, isn't it, and a lit

y. "It is a language. It was spoken by people who made

named Hargrove, coughed into his napkin. Gideon looked at her si

smiled wide

lay games,

ly sank us. I've been holding the line for eighteen months. I've been working on a sale, a very large one, that will save the shipping d

lfv

n. A fine parcel. Half-built, and the bank is circling." Preston sipped.

d gone ve

ated. "Panama City

somethi

found him at midnight on the loggia, leaning on the stucco balustrade, staring at the

r. When she came out in

t," h

ot say a

ing to say y

olange, "zat you did very we

e on the quay. In sixty-eight, a man came to the door in a good suit and said the land was needed, and she could take a thousand dollars or take her chances. She took

an in the

old, newly out of Harvard.

oonlight, naked and furious. "He didn't even remember

t. It was a small, light touch, and he looked down

u," she said, "

't owe m

and it is the same enemy." She took her han

'am, Mrs

ng, past the portraits of dead Cranes, and she was reaching for her bedroom door

or sto

marble fireplace, a leather folder spread before her and a lit match in her fingers. Pap

steno pads.Vivienne lifted he

said, very calmly, "and com

cus