This Goodnight--the gallant one, the gentleman, the dandy--was the one that Billy loved the most. Sometimes, he imagined what it would have been like if they had met before the war. Not often, but he liked to imagine the scandal they would have been. Goodnight, the son of some high-falutin somebody; Billy, the son of immigrants. He liked to imagine Goodnight having to sneak him places. But he liked this even more: getting to see the gentleman without the trappings of a society that scorned him.

He turned his fingers and caressed Goody's mouth. "Let's go inside." There was promise in his voice, soft and self assured.