The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. ‘Never trust a gun in female hands,’ grumbled Hilary, dropping the nun’s habit and backing to join his friend. “I wish I didn’t swear. They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. ’ ‘Well, but Leonardo he was excessively useful to me, you know,’ Melusine said airily. Prudence shook her head. Believe me, Anna. You never can go back.
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