At breakfast Ross made an announcement. "I'm going to have to go into the office today," he said calmly. "There are some matters I've got to clear up."

Charity looked at him with alarm. "Will you be gone long?"

"Not very." He reached down and kissed her nose. "I'll give you a call from the office and let you know how my day is going."

She tried to smile, but it was hard. Was he really com ing back? Was this his way of bowing out gracefully, now that he knew his objective was down the drain?

She was surprised at how easily she'd come to terms with his real identity. After the first shock had worn off, it hardly seemed important. She knew him, knew who he was. The name didn't matter. She loved him, and that was all she knew.

She spent the morning with Aunt Doris, listening to Faith moan about what a snake in the grass Mason was and going through old photo albums, talking.

"Where are pictures of your mother?" Aunt Doris asked at one point.

"I don't have any," she said shortly.

Aunt Doris nodded. "I'll send you some," she replied firmly.

"I don't want any."

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"I know how you feel." Aunt Doris frowned at her. "But she's family. She's in our blood, you and me. She belongs to us. We can't deny her. I'll send you pictures," she repeated.

They packed away the photo albums and went on to other subjects. When the phone rang, Charity answered it almost reluctantly. Part of her was sure it was going to be Ross with some excuse as to why he would not be back.

It was Ross all right, but without excuses.

"Charity? I have an errand for you. Go to the dressing table in our bedroom," he said, and her eyes brightened at his designating the bedroom as belonging to both of them. "Get the manila envelope I left there. And bring it to me."

She frowned. This seemed odd. "What are you talking about?"

There was a grin in his voice. "Don't ask any questions. Just do it."

Almost against her will she smiled. She had no idea what he was aiming at, but she knew she wanted to be a part of it. "Shall I come to your office?"

"No!"

"Your apartment?"

"Not on your life. I've got a neighbor who's almost as bad as your family as far as lack of privacy goes. No, I want you to meet me at the Serling Coffee Shop on the corner of State and Balboa. Okay?"

"Okay." She felt like a partner in a conspiracy. "When?"




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