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Maeve truly, truly loved this year's Valentine's Day portraits. They really showed Nigel's sensitive side. The man was an artist, honestly. Not too many people realized that. |
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Neville thought Maeve was a fine woman, an exceptionally fine woman, and he believed that his brother couldn't have made a better match if Nigel had ordered her up for himself from central casting. They were soul mates, in every sense. As for himself, however, the solitude and spaciousness of his bachelor life suited him just fine. He blew here and he blew there, taking the odd job when he was intrigued by a place or a person. How else might he have met... was it Clare? Clara? Clarice! That was it: Clarice. How else might he have met her? heard her song? listened to her story? and found his thoughts returning, oddly enough, to consider the precise color of her eyes and angle of her smile? |
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Clarice had no problems with confidence. Getting her mind set was another thing altogether. |
