He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. "You were no doubt surprised by the unlooked-for intelligence I sent you of your nephew's return?" "Was it unlooked-for on your part?" demanded the knight, distrustfully. “I have noticed,” he said, “that you seem to delight in taking a topsy-turvy view of life. What's it like, Joan?" "It's a small key, with curiously-fashioned wards.
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