Before I e a. And a moment later, before I even opened my eyes, I kne .

    Gone  oo, tangle, and from it tered a s illuminated every aspect of my room. It  I felt a surge of joy, as t  just a nig  er. It was as if spring had come.

    t ently into tir, ely jumped do to go out. I pulled my clot on, and  doairs togeto tche garden.

    I realized my mistake t I stepped outdoors. It  day. It  t moonlig souclines of tatuary figures. I stopped still and stared at t  circle, ood till daybreak, but t, impatient, pressed my ankles for attention, and I bent to stroke ouco pause a few yards off and look over his shoulder.

    I turned up t, ss and followed.

    do tly; on t turned into t te borders of box t surrounded tterns ted in and out of t, simes I  an angle to catc perfectly; a sudden vie oak tree, etcy against t I could not stop. All time, t stalked on aep, tail raised like a tour guide’s umbrella signaling to t bordered tain pool and padded s perimeter, ignoring tion t ser like a brig ttom of trance to ter garden, o.

    Under t and rigent. Sa of sigo.

    Curious, I tiptoed foro stand where he had, and look around.

    A er garden is colorful  t time of day, at t time of year. Largely it depends on dayligo bring it to life. t visitor o look o see its attractions. It oo dark to see t too early in tness of snooo cold for to release its fragrance. tcs branced rembling yelloassels, but for no  traction. Fine and leafless, tely knotted, ting randomly and  restraint.

    At its foot, te of a human figure.

    I froze.

    ted laboriously, releasing gasping puffs of breatful grunts.

    In a long, sloo explain ter’s garden at nigantly  needing even to t tart, it  Maurice kneeling on t unlikely person to find in t never occurred to me to   Judit, calm, Judit  in t? Impossible. I did not need to consider t.

    Instead, in t second, my mind reeled to and fro a imes bets.

    It er.

    It couldn’t be Miss inter.

    It er because… because it ell. I could sense it. It was .

    It couldn’t be er er oo uno bend to pluck out a  alone croucurbing tic fashion.

    It  Miss inter.

    But somee everyt was.

    t first second  finally came, was sudden.

    the figure froze… swiveled… rose… and I knew.

    Miss inter’s eyes. Brilliant, supernatural green.

    But not Miss inter’s face.

    A patctled fles told of former beauty, ted graft of we flesh.

    Emmeline! Miss inter’s this house!

    My mind urmoil; blood  me unblinking, and I realized sartled t still, so be under t into immobility.

    S to recover. In an urgent gesture soward me and, in a ring of senseless sounds.

    Be slo even stammer urned and  of t. retcook er ch of churned-up soil.

    Foxes indeed.

    Once t o persuade myself t I . t I  in my sleep I  Adeline’s to me and , unintelligible message. But I kne ed. t infuriating, tuneless five-note fragment. La la la la la.

    I stood, listening, until it faded completely away.

    t my feet and urned back to the house.