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and soon after that, the band
started to play, drowning out any effort at continued conversation. I
looked at Beryl while I ate, unsure about what she'd done. It certainly
didn't sound legal, but at the same time, I couldn't imagine any legal
way for a spirit, if that's what was, to get a legal identity in
today's world. Had there been a Jenny Smith? How had died, and how
did Beryl think could claim 's identity. I wasn't sure I wanted to
know, and in a way I was glad that the music was loud enough to prevent
me from asking.
The food was quite good, and the music was good enough that even
though I'm no dancer, I was tapping my feet and gently nodding my head to
the beat of some of the pieces. My knees touched Beryl's under the
little table, and after finished 's small meal, slid 's hand
down under the table and rested it on my knee, smiling as touched me.
"Want to dance?" asked during the first lull in the music
after we finished eating.
I hesitated. "I'm no good."
"So? I haven't danced in years, come on."
The evening passed in a whirl. may not have danced for a
century, but did know how to dance, and better than that, was a
good teacher. After a short while, I forgot my awkwardness
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