” “It certainly was,” she admitted. The lady's name's engraved inside, but so small I can scarcely read it. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. She had found the location of his firm on the internet on a library computer, tracing him to this place in New York where he practiced criminal law. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak. "By all means," rejoined Quilt.
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