“You never have a handkerchief when you need one. Here, take mine.”
Agnes shaded her eyes and looked up. Godfrey Baumgarten? How long has it been? The years zipped away as the flickering light played across the man’s face. She took his handkerchief, dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. She stumbled to her feet and stared at the tall, distinguished, grey-haired gentleman grinning down at her with the same rakish smile she remembered too well.