Ruby (Landry 1)

wondered as I started toward the living room. I was afraid to touch anything, afraid even to

walk on the expensive looking big Persian oval rug

that extended from the living room doorway, under

the two large sofas and beyond. The high windows

were draped in scarlet velvet with gold ties and the

walls were papered in a delicate floral design, the

hues matching the colors in the soft cushion high back

chairs and the sofas. On the thick mahogany center

table were two thick crystal vases. The lamps on the

side tables looked very old and valuable. There were

paintings on all the walls, some landscapes of

plantations and some street scenes from the French

Quarter. Above the marble fireplace was the portrait

of a distinguished looking old gentleman, his hair and

full beard a soft gray. His dark eyes seemed to swing

my way and hold.

I lowered myself gently in the corner of the

sofa on my right and sat rigidly, clinging to my little

bag and gaping about the room, looking at the statues,

the figurines in the curio case, and the other pictures

on the walls. I was afraid to look at the portrait of the

man above the fireplace again. He seemed so

accusatory.

A hickory wood grandfather's clock that looked as old as time itself ticked in the corner, its numbers all Roman. Otherwise, the great house was silent. Occasionally, I thought I heard a thumping above me and wondered if that was Gisselle storming back and

forth in her room.

My heart, which had been racing and drumming

ever since I let Beau Andreas lead me into the house,

calmed. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Had

I done a dreadful thing coming here? Was I about to