To my loving parents and brothers, and my Aunts, Gail and Barb. "Do you know what you make me think of?" "What?" "As if you had stepped out of some old family album. But if he speaks—I fear what he may tell. A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. These dinners, from their lavish display of ambiguous hors d’oeuvre to their skimpy ices in dishes of frilled paper, with their Chianti flasks and Parmesan dishes and their polyglot waiters and polyglot clientele, were very funny and bright; and she really liked Ramage, and valued his help and advice. She had also discovered the names of Grimm and Andersen; but at that time she had not been able to visualize "the pale slender things with gossamer wings"—fairies.
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