A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. ‘What are you going to do now, Gerald?’ He sipped his wine and shrugged. Martha had the square look of solid English citizenry, which was not deceiving. By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold. She had looked forward to an explanation. It was about twelve feet high, nine wide, and fourteen long; and was approached by double doors each six inches thick. ‘I’m following a scent.
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