CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“You seem pensive,” Mary said in the privacy of the carriage.
He pulled his attention from the rain. “I was thinking of your words back in the conservatory. About what I have and have not written for Ernestus Berchtold.”
“Oh, John! Surely you aren’t pursuing that dreadful ghost story about the skull-headed lady!” They both burst out laughing.
“No, no,” he said when his chuckling subsided. “The outline has changed much, and what you’ll see through the keyhole of my ghost story will course shivers down even your spine.”
“Well then, I am glad your novel is back on track. I always believed the original inspiration and underlying message needed to be written. Perhaps you will let me read a small portion while I am in town?” Polidori bowed his head, delighted. “I will als
