A few gowns followed, expanding as they dropped, like clumsy parachutes.

The company--all but a few severe dons and their friends--tumbled laughing down the ladder, down the winding stair, and out into sunshine.

The world was pagan after all.
At breakfast Taffy found a letter on his table, addressed in his mother's hand.

As a rule she wrote twice a week, and this was not one of the usual days for hearing from her.

But nothing was too good to happen that morning.