Page 86 of The Girl Who Knew Too Much

“Most of the really dramatic illusions are fairly simple, at least technically speaking. The trick with this one is to make sure the lighting is right so that the audience never sees the wide sides of the mirrored box that conceals the compartment.”

“So the real skill is in the sleight-of-hand work.”

“Always,” Oliver said. “In this case, the magician’s job is to shuffle the four mirrors on the stage in such a way that the audience thinks they’ve seen all of them from every angle. But the truth is, they’ve only seen three of the mirrors from all sides.”

“What happens if you have an assistant who gets extremely nervous in small, enclosed spaces?”

“Assistants who suffer from claustrophobia don’t last long in the magic business.”

“I can understand that.” Irene shuddered. “I think you would have had to fire me by the end of the first performance.”

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. I just wouldn’t want to have to climb in and out of those boxes for a living.”

“As it turns out, I’m not hiring any box jumpers these days.”

“What happened to the ones who used to work for you?” Irene asked. She sounded curious.

“Some went their own way after I closed the show. But most of thepeople who worked for me in the old days decided to go into a new field.”

“What field?”

“The hospitality business.”

Irene gave him a knowing look. “You took care of your crew by giving them jobs here at the hotel.”

“As I told you, the hotel business and the magic business have a lot in common. The skills required to keep both operating are very similar.”

Irene searched his face. “Do you miss it a lot?”

“The magic business? Sometimes. But not as much as I did at first. Things change. I’ve changed. But, yes, occasionally I miss that moment when you know you’ve pulled off the perfect illusion and the audience is thrilled by the effect.”

“Of course you’re bound to miss it sometimes. Magic was your passion. Your art.” She started to stroll slowly through the jumble of covered props, pausing here and there to peek beneath the canvas. “What will you do with these things?”

“I have absolutely no idea.” He watched her lift the cover off a stack of neatly coiled ropes. “I told you, there’s not much of a market for any of this stuff. One of these days I’ll have it hauled away.”

“No.” She turned quickly. “You shouldn’t destroy it. You should save it.”

“For what?”

She spread her hands. “For your children or your grandchildren. Who knows? One of them might inherit your passion. At the very least, they will be curious about your life as a magician.”

“I don’t have any plans to have children.”

“You don’t?” She looked surprised at first, and then she gazed at him with what could only have been described as compassion. “I’m so very sorry. I should never have said anything about children. Please forgive me.”

“For what?”

“I didn’t realize the full extent of your injury.” She glanced down athis leg and then hastily raised her eyes. “I had no idea it was so severe.” She broke off, floundering wildly. “It hadn’t occurred to me. I never gave it any thought, actually. Not after that kiss at the beach. I just assumed... Please, let’s change the subject. Can’t you see I’m absolutely mortified?”

Understanding finally dawned. He walked toward her and came to a halt a few inches away. He set the cane aside and very deliberately framed her face between his hands.

“I’d like to make one thing clear,” he said. “I’m somewhat damaged but the damage was not that extensive.”

“Oh. I see.” She swallowed hard and came up with a shaky smile. “I’m so glad.”

“So am I. And never more so than right now.”