Chapter 75

Burke scanned the dwelling as he approached it, and found it to be the usual type of farm house of a century ago, buried among dead trees. The interior of the house was in keeping with the exterior. Oval frames held old prints, horse-hair upholstered, massive dark furniture contrasted with tables and stands covered with white marble tops, the chairs squatted grimly in the quiet rooms and rested on dull rag carpets. The woman and her daughter struck Burke like beings transported from the misty past. The mother was a…