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"Hey, this is getting hot," Beau complained. His fingers slipped and I fumbled with the jar to keep from dropping it. Nina plucked it from my hand and held it firmly.

"The heat be nothing," she chastised,

"compared to the heat of evil spirits." Then she shook her head. "Nina hope it be enough brimstone smoke."

"It's enough," Beau assured her.

"Thank you, Nina," I said, seeing how uncomfortable he was. She nodded, and Beau urged me toward the door.

"Yes, thank you, Nina," he added. He pulled me out. "Don't laugh, Beau Andreas."

"I'm not laughing," he said, but I saw he was very happy we had left and were returning to the parlor.

"My grandmere taught me never to laugh at anyone's beliefs, Beau. No one has a monopoly on the truth when it comes to spiritual things."

"You're right," he said. "And anyway, whatever makes you comfortable and happy makes me comfortable and happy. I mean that," he promised, and kissed me.

A moment later Gisselle wheeled herself in, looking very full of herself. All the talk at breakfast had been about her wonderful recuperation. Edgar and Nina were told, but both looked so unimpressed Gisselle suspected I had told them.

"Am I interrupting anything?" she asked Beau coyly.

"As a matter of fact, you are," he replied, smiling.

"Too bad. Did you tell him yet?" she asked me.

"Tell me what?"

"I guess you haven't, because it's not as important to you as it is to everyone else." She turned to Beau, took a dramatic breath, and announced, "I'm regaining the use of my legs."

"What?" Beau looked at me, but I said nothing.

"That's right. My paralysis is going away. Soon I will be competition for Ruby again, and she's not too happy about that, are you, Sister dear?"

"I've never been in competition with you, Gisselle," I retorted.

"Oh no? What do you call your hot romance with my old boyfriend here?" she snapped.

"Hey, I think I might have something to say about all this," Beau told her. "And besides, Ruby and I were seeing each other way before the accident."

She smirked and then laughed her thin, sardonic laugh. "Men think they've made a decision, but the truth is, we have them wound around our little finger. You were always a bit too conservative for me, Beau. It was my decision to leave you behind. I was the one who made it possible for you two to meet and . . ."-she twisted her lips into her condescending smile-- "get to know each other."

"Yeah, right," Beau said, peeved.

"Anyway, New Year's Eve,I'll be dancing again and I expect to dance with you. You won't mind, will you, Sister dear?"

"Not in the least," I said. "That is, if Beau doesn't." She didn't like my tone, and her smile evaporated quickly. "I've got to call John and give him the good news. It might break his heart. He so enjoyed my helplessness last night."

"Just don't recuperate that fast then," I suggested, but instead of getting angry, she laughed.

"Maybe I won't. Don't knock it unless you try it," she added with narrowed eyelids. Then she laughed again and wheeled herself out.

"Is she telling the truth about her recovery?"

"No."

"She can't move her legs?"

"Yes, but she could do it weeks, maybe even months ago." I quickly related the incident at school and why I was blamed.