Chapter 3
Maryann did not witness a cool and fragrant dawn. In fact, she slept so profoundly through the early calling of birds that when at last she began to stir, she had lost all track of time. Rapturously warm, she rolled one slow eye above the pillows, apprehended the fact that sun stormed through her windows, and tumbled back down into a half-sleep filled with soft and sliding images whose detail she cared little about.
Some time passed away.
Then, as last night, music came to her. But this was a fresher, more obvious music, that of an harmonica running through a series of folk melodies. The tunes evinced her childhood within her, and she came more fully from sleep. She stretched hugely, making her spine creak with the pleasure of it. Ah, what a day!
Standing to one side of the w
