“Audubon called them Red-Throated Divers. They’re a sort of loon. It’s a lovely family group, I think. Peppermint?” “Some family,” I said. “No one’s paying attention to the mother. Who could blame her if she took off? Look at them.” A minute or so went by, and then Mrs. Windermere said, in a voice as soft as summer blue air, “Skinny Delivery Boy, you have it all wrong. Look how she’s standing close to her little one. She’s looking around to watch for the next spectacular thing that’s going to come into his life.” And I’m not lying, she was right.
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