Chapter Ten
The procession made its way slowly up the grand staircase to the Crystal Ballroom. Gina could hear the hum of voices, the faint clink of crystal and the occasional laugh as she carefully raised each knee above the next step.
Ramesh, in white tie, silently threw open the giant doors. Ward, dressed as usual from head to foot in black – this time as soft and flowing as poured oil – passed through.
Gina’s perceptions, already distorted by excitement and physical duress, were suddenly overwhelmed by the sense of hundreds of faces turned expectantly toward the entry, some in mid-sentence or with glasses half raised.
First they goggled, with eyes that seemed to her as large as saucers, at the man who followed Ward – a man as small as a child and with the face of a dark Raphaelit
