She married my Dad in a small ceremony down at City Hall. “Alone, dear?” “Yes, aunt. ‘Parbleu,’ she uttered indignantly. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. She approached a soft-looking bespectacled girl she had seen once in the halls and noticed for her haunted look. For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus.
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