“A little touchy this evening, aren’t we, Missy?” Michelle chided her friend. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. He wanted to talk with the patient, test him variously; and he wanted to be alone with him while he put these tests. The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand. . This was enough for the poor widow. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet.
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