CHAPTER
oz Howard watched as the
young man behind the counter laboriously wrote out her
ticket. She glanced upward idl~， at the sign overhead.
MOOSEnEAD ALRLINES. She d asked for a reservation， of
course， called from the International Terminal in Boston
after flying in from Edinburgh， but the young man who
answered explained that since they were really a small com-
muter airline， hardly more than a shuttle service between
Boston and Maine， they never made reservations in advance.
But there would be no problem getting a seat， he assured
her， so she had ridden over on the airport jitney. And here
she was， waiting while he made out the one-way ticket.
Evidently they did sell round-trip tickets， even little monthly
packets of them， advertised behind the counter at a sub-
stantial discount， just like a train， but she d hardly be need-
ing those. She could make her return reservation when she
saw how things worked out at the college and had a better
idea of how long she was going to stay.
Not only when， but where as well. Not back to Pough-
keepsie， of course; in the middle of the summer， forwarded
all the way to the tiny cottage she was sharing with Alan
in the Highlands， she had received a polite but firm letter
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