We all rested for a spell and then the black women got big, wooden rakes, the white girl went off to the house, and I went back to my scythe with a wh...tstone in my hand. I renewed my edge, convinced my shoulders that they could do more work and started swinging as the sun baked my back. The rakers piled up domed mounds of hay and I did my work until the sun sank behind the woodlot and the triangle rang again."Good work, good work," the overseer told me as we stood at the well. "You earned y'pay. He finally made up his mind and took the one with the ivory handle and the rosewood stem. The dealer had told him it had once belonged to a famous French poet but there was nothing to prove it. He also wore his top hat, as a gentleman should, but only a buttoned up vest over his shirt. Monsieur Henri crossed the street and hailed one of the numerous carriages which criss-crossed the city at that time of night. The ride to the area he frequented took only ten minutes. The streets seemed empty. More

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