Honey, what do you want to bother your pretty little head about suchthings? an amorous fellow student cornered her at the end of thefirst week of classes. The jewel which hung now at her throat had been given her in Avalon: a moonstone which sometimes reflected the blue brilliance of sky and sea; but in the fog, today, even the jewel looked shadowed. Silent and distant Laura and Iris emerged to wait at the kerb. Not with one son a suicide and another a murderer.
She sounded apologetic, but Papahad taught them always to ask for receipts. He's almostthree times her age, of course. What came back to her, again and again, in the silence of the night when she lay with Morgaine sleeping at her side, or when she sa e words echoing in her mind and ringing there, and wondered why she had never suspected Gorlois of so great a destiny.
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