The Blue Man
"Not that one!"
"That was the woman. Had a black maid with her. She's a Southerner. I looked on the register."
The other young fellow whistled.
"I'm glad I was at the links and didn't see it. She was a stunning woman."
Dusk stalked grimly down from eastern heights and blurred the water earlier than on rose-colored evenings, making the home-returning walker shiver through evergreen glooms along shore. The lights of the sleepy Old Mission had never seemed so pleasant, though the house was full of talk about that day's accident at the other side of the island.
I slipped out before the early boat left next morning, driven by undefined anxieties towards Madame Clementine's alley. There is a childish credulity which clings to imaginative people through life. I had accepted the blue man and the woman with floating hair in the way which they chose to present