About this story
Rain sends you over the garden wall to painter Valentine Blyth's studio, where his adopted daughter Madonna, unable to speak, welcomes you with a slate and a fire. A sailor named Mat Grice arrives asking after an old account, and the bracelet he carries makes him go pale at the sight of Madonna's face. Before he can explain, your father's men are at the door.
How it opens
Sunday rain pressed yellow fog against the windows of the Thorpe dining room.
Mr ThorpeZachary, your conduct at church has disgraced both worship and family.
At nineteen you knew the speech by rhythm, though tonight its conclusion sounded final.
Mrs ThorpeHe meant no insult. Zack has never learned to sit still under injustice.
Mr ThorpeWork, prayer, and home will cure this appetite for painters and vagabonds.
Choose
A locked door teaches escape more efficiently than obedience.
Valentine Blyth is my friend, not a corrupting influence.
Give me one evening to say farewell to them.