"Yes, that's me. Life has had its lips to me blowing smoke and fire out of me. And now a table top on which to glow reminiscently for a moment. And cool into ashes. Apologies to Laura Jean, Marie Corelli—and God."
CHAPTER V
Rachel, removing her heavy coat, walked briskly to the grate fire burning in the rear of the studio. She stood looking into the flames and rubbing the cold out of her hands.
"Well, I kept the appointment, Frank."
Brander, the artist, sprawled on a cushion-littered couch, sat up slowly. His heavy eyes regarded her.
"We had quite a talk. You know his wife has remarried."
"That so?" Rachel laughed.
"Mr. Dorn sends you his regards."
"That'll be enough."