Judy gloomily digested this piece of information while lost in thought. Karl had made no effort to tell her the great news—no. He had a new confidant now, had no need for her. Only her grandfather, voicing Hamlet’s foreboding of evil, would understand. “O my prophetic soul” now found a sympathetic echo in Judy’s heart.
Lynne looked up and eyed Judy keenly. “Why are you looking so tragic? I know what’s the trouble,” she said affectionately. “You’re just overtired. Let’s drop everything and go to the pool. It’ll be cool and refreshing and we can finish up tomorrow. What do you say?”
“I don’t know. I ought to go home.”
“Help me pull this last box of stuff into the shed. There, that’s fine. Allen, don’t burn anything more. We want to leave as soon as possible.”
After everything was carefully stowed away, Lynne walked to the log fence. “Let’s sit up here until Allen’s ready.”
Judy climbed up next to Lynne.
“On Saturday,” Lynne said, “we have a beautiful, free day, no concert, no rehearsal, no camp. For a long time Allen and I have planned to visit Toklat. You’ve heard of the huskies, the wonderful Alaskan dogs that live there, trained and bred by Stuart Mace.”
Judy nodded.
“I think you’ll love seeing them. Allen’s crazy about dogs and he’s been dying to go there ever since we came to Aspen. And not a stone’s throw from Toklat is a real ghost town, the kind you’ve been babbling about. Ashcroft, once larger than Aspen, is still deserted after seventy years.”
“You mean the silver-mining town?” Judy asked, interested in spite of herself. Karl’s faithlessness receded for the moment.