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?" she asked him.She was bundled up against the cold, her hands shoved in her coat pockets as he turned his head to her. He was immediately struck by how impossibly blue her eyes looked against the white landscape. But you feel nothing about that. He looked quickly away, and then looked back at her before replying."Yeah, I'm fine Liz." He knew she didn't believe him.She smiled softly, then looped her arm in his, encouraging him."You ready... ?" she asked gently.No, but let's do this anyway. He took one last look at the river, and then nodded to her before they headed back up to her car. She didn't ask why he'd wanted to meet here instead of her picking him up from his apartment. It was obviously important to him, and she didn't pry."Liz, you don't need to do this if you don't..." he managed to get out before she stopped him with one look. Time to shut up. He knew that look.He hesitated, and then climbed in the passenger side. It occurred to him that their driving arrangements. " Where are you staying; have you a room?" Peter asked as we turned back toward the wide front door where the black servant stood in silence."We'll find an inn," Beall said."Ha," said Robert Peter. "Don't try Slater's, and I wouldn't send a pig's mother to any of the other places. Come, you'll stay here. I've plenty of room."And so we did and ate a small meal, used the fancy House of Necessity in the back garden and slept in a soft bed under fluffy quilts on the third floor and woke to hot water in big jugs and a breakfast fit for a hungry dock hand or a starving mill worker. We had beer and coffee and tea and hot milk and biscuits and corn dodgers and fried steaks and cold gammon and boiled chicken and sliced tongue and fritters and honey, pickled pears and some preserved foods I couldn't even recognize.Mr. Peter had his fancy carriage brought out. It was drawn by a pair of almost-matched grays who had been trained to pick up their front feet together. I couldn't see any sores on.
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