“Speaking of your newfound relation ...” Vivian reached for Flora’s hand. “You do realize that, from all she told us, you and I are also related.”
“Very
distantly.”
“And what a very good thing that is,” he said, sitting beside her on the settee and raising her fingers to his lips. “I wouldn’t at all have liked to find out we were first cousins.”
“No, that wouldn’t have done at all,” said Flora, turning a face to his that was lit, not by the glow of the fire, but by the discovery that the world was as bright and shining as the Gossinger silver after she had helped her grandfather polish it, in those magic days when she was a little girl and knew they would all live forever.
To my son Warren,
who also hears the sirens sing.
A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS
To Dr. John and Barbara White of Lincoln, for taking me to the house that became Gossinger Hall and, most of all, for their unfailing love and kindness.
Copyright © 1997 by Dorothy Cannell
Originally published by Bantam (ISBN 978-0553101638)
Electronically published in 2013 by Belgrave House
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228
http://www.BelgraveHouse.com
Electronic sales: [email protected]
This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.