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So Pale So Cold So Fair Leigh Brackett I She was the last person in the world I expected to see. But she was there in the moonlightlying across the porch of my rented cabin. She wore a black evening dress and little sandalswith very high heels. At her throat was a gleam of dim fire that even by moonlight you knew hadto be made by nothing less than diamonds. She was very beautiful. Her name was Marjorie andonce upon a time a thousand years ago she had been engaged to me. That was a thousand years ago. If you checked the calendar it would only say eight and a halfbut it seemed like a thousand to me. She hadnt married me. She married Brian Ingraham and shewas still married to him and I had to admit she had probably been right because he could buyher the diamonds and I was still just a reporter for the Fordstown Herald. I didnt know whatMarjorie Ingraham was doing on my porch at two thirty-five of a Sunday morning. I stood stillon the graveled path and tried to figure it out. The poker game was going strong in Dave Schumans cabin next door. I had just left it. Thecards had not been running my way and the whiskey had and about five minutes ago I haddecided to call it a night. I had walked along the lake shore looking with a sort of vaguepleasure at the water and the sky thinking that I still had eight whole days of vacationbefore I had to get back to my typewriter again. And now here was Marjorie lying across my porch. I couldnt figure it out. She had not moved
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