I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were. “This is all madness,” she declared wearily. As a dog eats grass. 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 glanced up at Roding and met his eyes. John knew everybody, it seemed.
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