LEIGH BRACKETT
SO PALE, SO COLD, SO FAIR
CHAPTER ONE
She was the last person in the world I expected to see. But she was there, in the moonlight, lying across the porch of my rented cabin.
She wore a black evening dress, and little sandals with very high heels. At her throat was a gleam of dim fire that even by moonlight you knew had to be made by nothing less than diamonds. She was very beautiful. Her name was Marjorie, and once upon a time, a thousand years ago, she had been engaged to me.
That was a thousand years ago. If you checked the calendar it would only say eight and a half, but it seemed like a thousand to me. She hadn’t married me. She married Brian Ingraham, and she was still married to him, and I had to admit she had probably been right, because he could buy her the diamonds and I was still just a reporter for the Fordstown Herald.
. . .
