Roman nodded toward the chair he had set out for his friend, and Proctor sat down on it, edging it about until he felt himself part of the ensemble. Then he opened his case, took out the clarinet, fingered it without putting it to his lips in order to test the response of his fingers that had so recently held cold leather reins. Then putting the mouthpiece to his lips, he picked up the tune with the others.

Elizabeth-Ann Clay, who as Elizabeth-Ann Malone had once been Selma’s schoolmate and secret love, arrived just then with her husband Sefton, their daughters, Ann-Elizabeth and Margaret-Ella, and a man named Casey Troy. Casey Troy had come to Highboro two months ago with letters of reference and settled himself comfortably in the small hotel, where he had not long to wait for commissions to paint portraits of the local gentry. One of his warmest letters of introduction was to the Clays, from an old Savannah business acquaintance of Sefton Clay’s, and he had since his arrival painted a group portrait of the family that had been so enthusiastically received that he had then been given the commission to paint separate portraits of the Misses Clay, and one of Mrs. Clay, Sefton suggesting that the portrait of his wife contain also the family pets, the ginger cat named Amos and the springer spaniel named Rufus. Mr. Troy obliged.

His fame spread locally, as he was accustomed to its doing when he came to a new place. He had three definite commissions for portraits and a dozen eager waverers. Casey Troy enjoyed the life he had made for himself, from no deliberate plan, but from a talent and skill triggered by his need to earn a living and a desire to earn it in the most agreeable way open to him. He was intelligent without being weighty, lively without appearing silly. He had manners and taste, and he paid his way in society with both his talent and his agreeable nature. He enjoyed the company of gentlemen and was discreet in the pleasure he took in the company of ladies. Also, he genuinely liked the work he did. He was not a cynical hack with his brush. He took pride and care in getting a true likeness of a subject, and he was happily able to do it without flattering or offending.