CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
“I have but one chapter to write and my ghost story will be complete,” Mary said, as Polidori escorted her down the main stair of the villa and across the lobby toward the porte cochère. She had spent the entire day in her suite at her Maggiolini, inscribing all that had filled her mind since she had last allowed her fingers to caress her quill. Young Willmouse had gurgled and laughed in the crook of her arm, but still her mind and words had leapt across the parchment.
“Well done to you, Mrs. Shelley. Will your creature, your monster, cross paths once more with the one who created him?”
“Perhaps . . . you will see.”
The doorman held the villa entrance door open wide and bowed as Mary and Polidori passed to the outside landing. They waited patiently for their carriage
