It was a four-story sandstone building that wore its age like a dowager wears jewels and dignity. There was no elevator, just worn stone stairs. The mullioned windows held thick glass, and magnificent carpets covered the floors. On one wood-paneled wall there was a fireplace with a hood of beaten copper and set all around with magnificent painted tiles in shades of blue and green like peacock tails. The desk clerk, a young woman whose head scarf was a frame for the perfect oval of her face and her pale green eyes, greeted them and handed out keys. “There will be tea in the breakfast room on the upper floor. Once you are refreshed, please come and be welcome.” Richard counted keys and realized there wasn’t one for Mosi. “My ward will also need a room. Next to mine,” Richard said. More than ever Richard wished he had a woman in the party. He hated to leave the child alone, but his sister’s warning hung ominously in his mind. “And Mr. Kenntnis will share a room with me.” “Hey, Mr.
