Morag Prunty An Independent Woman

loneliness as she woke to face each hollow day in Kingsbury. The empty fear of growing old and unlovely, alone. He had asked what she would be wearing and she said, “A Jaeger suit – beige.” It was good to get the Jaeger bit in, let him know what kind of a woman she was. Clothes said so much about a person, she thought. “That sounds nice, Bridie.” Polite, gentlemanly, nothing nasty or smutty in his tone. He had used her name. That was a good sign. She had asked him what his name was. “Pat,” he said. No