She cherished it in her memories, keeping clear and distinct the windings of its streets, where they narrowed, where they broadened into open spaces; yet all the while her thoughts transformed it, and made of its mere stones and bricks a tiny city magical with light and grace.

For while she stayed in it her happiness had dawned and she saw it always roseate with that dawn.

It seemed to her that plots and thoughts of harm could there hardly outlive one starlit night, one sunlit day.

Had she mapped out her father's itinerary, thither and nowhere else would she have sent him.
"You are afraid ?" she asked.

"Hilary, why ?" Chayne did not answer her question.