When the Devil Drives

'No one would ever regard your grandmother in that light,' he said.'She was universally respected and admired. Loved too.'Joanna shook her head, trying to reconcile the vivid face in theportrait with the depressed and dowdy woman in the photographalbum at home.'I think you've made a mistake,' she said with a trace of curtness. 'Thewoman in the portrait doesn't resemble my grandmother in any way.''Then let's say it's how I imagine she looked, and leave it at that,' hesaid. 'You never knew her, of course.''No, she was comparatively young when she died— in her latethirties.' Joanna paused. 'My father's never talked about his mothervery much, but Nanny told me once that she was expecting anotherchild, which died, and there were complications.''Wasn't that rather unusual—even for those days?''Perhaps.' Joanna thought of the photographs. The woman at hergrandfather's side hadn't looked as if she possessed much physicalstrength, let alone zest for living.'A sad story,' Cal said, after a silence. 'So much beauty and charmjust—snuffed out like that.''I think you have a rather exaggerated impression of her,' Joannacommented drily as she got to her feet. 'It's time I was going.''I'll call you later today,' he said. 'I've arranged for some of the localestate agencies to send particulars of cottages for us to see.''Cottages?' Joanna repeated. 'What do you mean?'