It was around nine pm when Grace caught up with her parents and their friends. The woman asked Grace if she had time to meet photographer Irene Hayes....She took Grace to one side of the ballroom where the Louvre-doors were that gave access to the paved terrace lining one side of the ballroom. Irene was a fifty-year old brunette, slim, elegant, about the same height as Grace. She had long slim fingers that were straddling her champagne glass. Fingers, Grace imagined, that could go anywhere…. . maybe James Allen. I know he can sing it.”“OK, I understand. Just don’t leave without saying goodbye, Mr. Chapman.”Isabel had heard all of this and had shimmering eyes. “I am going to miss you so much, big brother. You better write me or call me, or I will sic my future brother on you.”“Sure thing, Izzy.”“Everybody, you are staying for dinner. Peter, would you come and help me in the kitchen?” Katherine said.Peter gave me a look, and then headed over there, “Coming dear.”Nah! That can’t. More

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