She had never been able to manufacture any real interest in fashion, and rarely remembered to look in the mirror. The good clothes she had brought with her to Ogilvie were basic: a dark dress for formal wear; a lighter, dressier one that she had worn to every wedding she had attended for the last three years; a single sundress; a straight black skirt; and a good white silk blouse. She couldn’t remember the last time she had bought anything new. When there was extra money she bought another lens for her Nikon or put something aside toward new equipment.

She had never worried much about this particular failing until John had come along. John, who wore expensive clothes so casually and so well. He had an eye for line and color and he never asked, as other men sometimes had, if his shirt matched his pants. More than that, he had never, not once, said a word to her about her clothes, good or bad; he never seemed disappointed in what she wore, although she herself felt at a disadvantage walking down the street next to him. He was elegant and beautiful and strong, and next to him she often felt like a puppy that needed grooming.

Angie thought of going home to change, or at least finding a store where she could buy a cap or scarf or something to cover her hair, but then she had no money on her, even if any of the shops along this part of Main Street would offer something so mundane.

The merchants of Ogilvie, it was clear, catered to tourists who came for day trips from Savannah and to the wealthy parents of its undergraduates. She passed Thomasina’s, which seemed to be doing a brisk brunch business; an artisan jeweler; a crowded café-bakery; a clothing boutique with a linen sheath in the window that glimmered in the light. It was made for a long, thin woman who had no bust and no hips, and Angie would have looked like a sack of potatoes in it, which was beside the point: she couldn’t afford a dress like that, and she had no place to wear it. It was an elegant dress, for cocktail parties at the dean’s house or an evening in Savannah at the theater. An Audrey Hepburn, a Jackie Kennedy, a Caroline Rose kind of dress.