He smiled and looked over at her. Her hair was whipping around her full, starkly made-up face. You couldn’t say she was pretty, but she had something.

As they walked back, she paused at a narrow, white Georgian house. A sign outside read BED AND BREAKFAST.

“I have a room in there,” she said. They both stopped to look at the place. “Do you want to see it?”

“I don’t feel up to meeting the whole family,” he said.

“Oh, no,” she said. “We’re all staying at Jurys.” He was about to ask what she meant when she hurried up the walk and paused on the bottom step, waiting. He saw her in her totality then: thick, muscular legs in black leggings, little feet, erect posture, big black tent of a sweater masking her body, those blackened eyes. His curiosity coagulated again.

“You want to?” she asked.

The room was furnished with an unmade double bed and a tilted painting of a fox hunt hung curiously close to the ceiling. Maroon drapes were pulled adamantly shut. The girl lit a candle by the bed. It gave off a strong scent of vanilla.

“If your family is staying at Jurys,” Ciaran ventured, “why are you…”

“I rented this place just for myself. They don’t know. I’m sleeping at the hotel with them.”

“What do you use this place for?”

“It’s my nest,” she said, lying down on the bed straight as a pin and looking up at him. He sat on the edge of the bed beside her.

“Why do you need a nest?” he asked.

“I always need my own space,” she said, sliding off her bracelets and placing them under her pillow.

“And what,” he said, feeling acutely alert, “is it that you are recovering from?”

“I’m addicted to romance,” she said. He chuckled.

“Isn’t everybody?”

“It’s a recognized syndrome,” she said seriously, folding her hands on her chest.

“And what are the symptoms of your malady?” he asked, looking down at her.

“If I see a romantic movie,” she said, “I can fall in love with the man in it. It’s pretty bad. I’ve been arrested for stalking. I’m not allowed to tell you who it was, though.” Ciaran nodded his head in sober agreement. “So I can’t go to romantic movies anymore.”

“What else?”

“Well, I’m not supposed to do this. Renting a room like this is a real no-no, but—I couldn’t help myself.”

“You mean to say you rented this room secretly so you could—”

“Meet people,” she said.

“And have you?” he asked.