carnival in Rome, wasn‟t it? Did you hear the burning man who appeared on the “Marvelous Spanish Stairs?” looked for you in London.” “We a heavenly entrance that was,” Harry Sherwin-Williams called. us all, Fourmyle. “What “Outdid Made us look like a pack of damned pikers.” forget yourself, Harry,” Presteign said coldly. know I permit no profanity in my home.” “You “You Presteign. Where‟s the circus now, Fourmyle?” “Sorry, don‟t know,” Foyle said. a moment.” “I “Just A crowd gathered, grinning in anticipation of the latest Fourmyle folly. He took out a platinum watch and snapped open the case. The face of a valet appeared on the dial. whatever your name is… Where are we staying just now?” “Ahhh… The answer was tiny and tinny. gave orders to make New York your permanent residence, “You Fourmyle.” Did I? And?” “Oh? bought St. Patrick‟s Cathedral, Fourmyle.” “We is that?” “And St. Patrick‟s, Fourmyle. On Fifth Avenue and what was formerly joth Street. We‟ve pitched the “Old camp inside.” you.” Fourmyle closed the platinum Hunter. address is Old St. Patrick‟s, New York. “Thank “My There‟s one thing to be said for the outlawed religions… At least they built churches big enough to house a circus.” Olivia Presteign was seated on a dais, surrounded by admirers paying to this beautiful albino daughter of Presteign. She was strangely and wonderfully blind, for she could see in the infrared only, from 7,500 angstroms to one millimeter wave lengths, far below the normal visible spectrum. She saw heat waves, magnetic fields, radio waves; she saw her admirers in a strange light of organic emanations against a background of red radiation. She was a Snow Maiden, an Ice Princess with coral eyes and coral lips, imperious, mysterious, unattainable. Foyle looked at her once and lowered his eyes in confusion before the blind gaze that could only see him as electromagnetic waves and infrared light. His pulse began to beat faster; a hundred lightning fantasies about himself and Olivia Presteign flashed in his heart.
“Marvelous carnival in Rome, wasn‟t it? Did you hear the burning man who appeared on the Spanish Stairs?” “We looked for you in London.” “What a heavenly entrance that was,” Harry Sherwin-Williams called. “Outdid us all, Fourmyle. Made us look like a pack of damned pikers.” “You forget yourself, Harry,” Presteign said coldly. “You know I permit no profanity in my home.” “Sorry, Presteign. Where‟s the circus now, Fourmyle?” “I don‟t know,” Foyle said. “Just a moment.” A crowd gathered, grinning in anticipation of the latest Fourmyle folly. He took out a platinum watch and snapped open the case. The face of a valet appeared on the dial. “Ahhh… whatever your name is… Where are we staying just now?” The answer was tiny and tinny. “You gave orders to make New York your permanent residence, Fourmyle.” “Oh? Did I? And?” “We bought St. Patrick‟s Cathedral, Fourmyle.” “And is that?” “Old St. Patrick‟s, Fourmyle. On Fifth Avenue and what was formerly joth Street. We‟ve pitched the camp inside.” “Thank you.” Fourmyle closed the platinum Hunter. “My address is Old St. Patrick‟s, New York. There‟s one thing to be said for the outlawed religions… At least they built churches big enough to house a circus.” Olivia Presteign was seated on a dais, surrounded by admirers paying to this beautiful albino daughter of Presteign. She was strangely and wonderfully blind, for she could see in the infrared only, from 7,500 angstroms to one millimeter wave lengths, far below the normal visible spectrum. She saw heat waves, magnetic fields, radio waves; she saw her admirers in a strange light of organic emanations against a background of red radiation. She was a Snow Maiden, an Ice Princess with coral eyes and coral lips, imperious, mysterious, unattainable. Foyle looked at her once and lowered his eyes in confusion before the blind gaze that could only see him as electromagnetic waves and infrared light. His pulse began to beat faster; a hundred lightning fantasies about himself and Olivia Presteign flashed in his heart.
the_stars_my_destination.docx