I ought to put in an appearance, or the old girl will cut up stiff.” “You’ll never make it,” Bess answered, lounging back on the pillow and running her fingers through a cloud of black hair that had recently been likened to a Stygian snare. “It’s eleven already.” “It’s only ten miles. I’ll make it for the midnight revels, with time to spare,” he assured her, hopping out of bed. “Damme, it’s snowing!” he exclaimed, looking out the window. “Stay; maybe we’ll be snowbound,” she tempted, stretching like a cat. He considered this appetizing suggestion, but in the end shook his head and put on his clothes. “Pierre will get me through. He knows snow. “Knows snow?” she asked in forgivable confusion. “He is an expert on snow,” he told her. “Pierre is from Lower Canada. He tells me that in the winter there he has often had to burrow his way from his cottage. He also possesses a pair of snowshoes that allow him to walk on deep snow drifts. I’ve been praying for a good snowfall to try them.”
What do You think about Midnight Masquerade (1985)?
