Tell them you've been visiting faines in the wood for fourhundred years."That was perhaps a bit cruel. They'd mock him, most likely,But then they'd probably send him to the National Health, andget him taken care of.Tinker looked at the signboard, then pushed at the car door; itdidn't open, and he looked helplessly for a handle or latch.OUT OF THE WOODS 53Jenny leaned over and opened the door for him.He got out carefully, then bobbed to her in something that wasalmost, but not quite, a bow. "My thanks to you, good lady."She felt guilty about dumping the poor loonie like this, andshe was momentarily tempted to park the car and go into the pubwith him, to make sure things didn't get rough—but it wasn't herproblem, and she wasn't a native here.He'd be all right. This was a peaceful English village, not abar in Detroit or L.A.—or even London.And it just wasn't her problem.She took her foot off the brake and pulled away.Three days later, in her hotel room in Bayswater, she had theTV news on as background while she wrote a letter to her par-ents back in Cleveland.
