After promising myself that I wouldn't, I'd managed to conclude positively that it was Marianne Wagner in Mrs. Bissel's basement. My brain didn't seem to have room in it for consideration of another possibility. Was this my renowned spiritualistic instinct rearing its precognitive head? No. It was because I'd managed to fix on Marianne and was worrying the poor girl in my mind, as if she were a bone and I was one of Mrs. Bissel's bull-headed dachshunds. “Mrs. Majesty,” Mr. Hostetter said, sounding grim. “Where are you this evening?” “What?” I jumped a little in my chair and felt guilty. “I'm sorry, Mr. Hostetter.” “Hmmm,” he said. I knew he wanted to yell at me, but wouldn't, because we were in church. Thank heaven for that. “You failed to come in on the chorus. I fear the other altos follow your lead, so if you do the same thing on Sunday, we're going to sound ludicrously thin.” “I'm really sorry. My mind's wandering this evening, I'm afraid.”
What do You think about Fine Spirits [Spirits 02]?
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