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"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, even though a paralyzing numbness gripped me.

Paul and Beau looked at each other a moment and then Beau became very serious, his eyes narrowing and darkening.

"We'd better hurry," he said.

"Lead the way," Paul replied sharply.

We entered the chateau. It had a short foyer decorated with drapes and large scenic paintings. The furnishings were a mixture of modern and some of the same French Provincial found in the New Orleans house. The lights were low, the curtains closed on the windows. Shadows fell everywhere, especially over the stairway. We hurried up.

"Let's get Pearl settled in first," Beau suggested, and took us immediately to a nursery. "That was Gisselle's old crib," he said. "Apparently Daphne had guests with children from time to time. She loved being the hostess with the mostest," he said, smirking at me.

Pearl moaned when I placed her in the crib. I waited a moment to see if she would wake, but she just sighed and turned on her side. Then Beau turned to Paul.

"I managed to get a folding gurney for us to use. No one knows or suspects anything," he assured me. "Money stops curiosity."

"It doesn't solve every problem," Paul said pointedly, shifting his eyes to me, too. I looked down and Beau nodded without a reply and ushered us out. We followed him to the master suite. Gisselle looked tiny in the king-size canopy bed with the quilt up to her chin. Her hair was strewn out over the pillow and her complexion was pasty white.

"She goes in and out of coma now," Beau explained.

"Oh, Beau. She really belongs in a hospital," I moaned.

"Paul can have her put in one if his doctor so advises. Mine didn't think it would matter much as long as she had good nursing care."

"I'll take care of it," Paul said, his eyes fixed on Gisselle. "She'll get the best possible attention."

"Then let's get started," Beau said, obviously anxious to begin before any of us changed his or her mind. Paul nodded and went around to the side of the bed to help move Gisselle, to the waiting gurney. Beau leaned in and scooped under her arms. Her eyelids fluttered but didn't open as he lifted and slid her toward the edge of the bed. Then he nodded at Paul, who took hold of her legs. They placed her on the gurney. She was in a white cotton nightgown with frilly sleeves and a blue flower pattern over the bodice. I was sure Beau had picked it out, knowing it was something I would wear.

He put a blanket over her and then looked at me. "We have to exchange the wedding rings," he said. "I've already taken hers off."

He handed it to me. It felt hot in my fingers. I looked at Paul, who stared with an expression of curiosity. It was as if he were studying my every move to see just what I would do and how I would feel about what I did. I turned around and twisted at my ring. My finger was a bit swollen and it wouldn't come right off.

"Run some cold water over it," Beau advised. He nodded toward the bathroom. I looked at Paul again. He seemed happy about the difficulty I was having symbolically separating from him.

Water helped and the ring came off. Beau quickly worked it onto Gisselle's finger.

"Any other rings?" he asked me.

"No, nothing I wear all the time."

"She changed her jewelry so often, no one would remember anything she wore, except her wedding ring." He started to wheel the gurney toward the door and stopped.

"I'll bring the station wagon to the front. I'll back right up to the front steps. Wait right here." He hurried out and down.

Paul gazed at Gisselle a moment and then sighed deeply and looked at me. "Well, here we are, doing it," he said.

My heart was tripping along so fast, I couldn't catch my breath. "Do whatever the doctor says, Paul," I told him.

"You don't have to say it. Of course I will." He hesitated a moment and then added, "I've already spoken to a doctor about this condition."

"You have?"

"Yes, someone in Baton Rouge this morning."

"And?"

"She could recover," he said, and fixed his eyes on me. Now I understo