directly behind her in the display case. “What about that one?”
She turned around. “That? That’s a very interesting one. It’s one of my favorites. It’s an imp. The pose first appeared in the late 19th Century. You can see by the hands both outstretched in a snubbing fashion in front of his nose, his tongue sticking out—he’s an independent and even frivolous character. Not necessarily malevolent, but mischievous. A rogue. You never know what he might do.”
“ He seems quite predictable to me. All devils are.”
“ You know the type?” She looked at him with a coy smile.
Caine acknowledged the verbal play with a lifted eyebrow. “And what do you do when you meet one of these imps?”
“ Oh, I just shoo them away.” She hesitated, then said with emphasis: “Most of them are imp ‐ posters anyway.”
He contorted his face in a deliberately pained expression.
“ I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist that.”
“ You should have some suitable punishment.” Caine motioned to a passing server with a tray of champagne.
“ I’d like to, but I have to leave soon,” Laura told him, expecting the offer of another glass. “Actually, I have to finish preparing for some lectures I’m giving.”
“ Old Folklore?”
“ No, no,” she replied laughingly. “I teach French History at George Washington University.”
“ What do French History and devil dolls have in common?”
“ It’s a long story. I’ll tell you sometime,” she said anticipating they would see each other again. “Meantime, I’ll never get my lectures prepared.”
“ Improvise,” Caine declared. “I can see that your intelligence is second only to your beauty.”
“ I know a line when I hear one.”
“ Can the truth ever be a line?” he retorted offering her another glass of champagne that he scooped from the tray of the passing server.
“ I should say ‘no’…”
“ Don’t say ‘no’, please,” he asked earnestly.
“ Well... I suppose…”
They sipped their champagne, eyes engaging each other in wordless conversation, then gazed around the reception hall. Most guests had circulated through the various displays and were huddled in larger or smaller groups socializing.
Some were leaving. Colonel Caine took in the festive scene with a searching eye for Victor Sherwyck.
“ I don’t think there will be much more traffic at this display,” Laura ventured. “Would you mind if we left now?”
“ Not at all,” Caine replied, satisfied that Victor Sherwyck had not shown up.
They casually made their way towards the main door and passed within several feet of the Russian Ambassador’s circle. Mr. and Mrs. Knowlton were engaged in animated conversation with the Ambassador when Mrs. Knowlton noticed Colonel Caine and Laura Mitchell walk by. She gave Caine a dismissing glance.
Nearby, Mrs. Davis looked disapprovingly at him in the company of the shapely woman with the black dress and vowed to herself that he would have to explain himself before he comes calling on her Samantha.
And eyeing Caine very intently was one of the members of the Russian entourage. He was distinguished looking, but slightly fleshy—the result of a perceptible weight gain during the first of a two ‐ year assignment to the Russian Embassy as a consular officer. The man stroked back his full head of graying hair as he watched the Colonel and Laura Mitchell disappear through the main entrance of the Old Castle.
Chapter 7
Outside the Castle the long line of trees accenting the length of the Mall had become shadowy sentinels with a gathering wind hissing through the leaves in the growing darkness. The wind carried the smell of fresh earth after a rain.
Amid an exchange of small talk Laura and the Colonel did not notice how fast they found themselves on the narrow, tree ‐ lined sidewalk along the west side of the
She turned around. “That? That’s a very interesting one. It’s one of my favorites. It’s an imp. The pose first appeared in the late 19th Century. You can see by the hands both outstretched in a snubbing fashion in front of his nose, his tongue sticking out—he’s an independent and even frivolous character. Not necessarily malevolent, but mischievous. A rogue. You never know what he might do.”
“ He seems quite predictable to me. All devils are.”
“ You know the type?” She looked at him with a coy smile.
Caine acknowledged the verbal play with a lifted eyebrow. “And what do you do when you meet one of these imps?”
“ Oh, I just shoo them away.” She hesitated, then said with emphasis: “Most of them are imp ‐ posters anyway.”
He contorted his face in a deliberately pained expression.
“ I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist that.”
“ You should have some suitable punishment.” Caine motioned to a passing server with a tray of champagne.
“ I’d like to, but I have to leave soon,” Laura told him, expecting the offer of another glass. “Actually, I have to finish preparing for some lectures I’m giving.”
“ Old Folklore?”
“ No, no,” she replied laughingly. “I teach French History at George Washington University.”
“ What do French History and devil dolls have in common?”
“ It’s a long story. I’ll tell you sometime,” she said anticipating they would see each other again. “Meantime, I’ll never get my lectures prepared.”
“ Improvise,” Caine declared. “I can see that your intelligence is second only to your beauty.”
“ I know a line when I hear one.”
“ Can the truth ever be a line?” he retorted offering her another glass of champagne that he scooped from the tray of the passing server.
“ I should say ‘no’…”
“ Don’t say ‘no’, please,” he asked earnestly.
“ Well... I suppose…”
They sipped their champagne, eyes engaging each other in wordless conversation, then gazed around the reception hall. Most guests had circulated through the various displays and were huddled in larger or smaller groups socializing.
Some were leaving. Colonel Caine took in the festive scene with a searching eye for Victor Sherwyck.
“ I don’t think there will be much more traffic at this display,” Laura ventured. “Would you mind if we left now?”
“ Not at all,” Caine replied, satisfied that Victor Sherwyck had not shown up.
They casually made their way towards the main door and passed within several feet of the Russian Ambassador’s circle. Mr. and Mrs. Knowlton were engaged in animated conversation with the Ambassador when Mrs. Knowlton noticed Colonel Caine and Laura Mitchell walk by. She gave Caine a dismissing glance.
Nearby, Mrs. Davis looked disapprovingly at him in the company of the shapely woman with the black dress and vowed to herself that he would have to explain himself before he comes calling on her Samantha.
And eyeing Caine very intently was one of the members of the Russian entourage. He was distinguished looking, but slightly fleshy—the result of a perceptible weight gain during the first of a two ‐ year assignment to the Russian Embassy as a consular officer. The man stroked back his full head of graying hair as he watched the Colonel and Laura Mitchell disappear through the main entrance of the Old Castle.
Chapter 7
Outside the Castle the long line of trees accenting the length of the Mall had become shadowy sentinels with a gathering wind hissing through the leaves in the growing darkness. The wind carried the smell of fresh earth after a rain.
Amid an exchange of small talk Laura and the Colonel did not notice how fast they found themselves on the narrow, tree ‐ lined sidewalk along the west side of the
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