A sylph! I slipped into a silken robe and walked to the door of my apartment to get the morning paper. It was the Sunday edition. I made some rye toas... and tea. The spread was one of those fat free, carb free, salt free cheapies. I put some honey into my tea and sat at the kitchen table for my light breakfast.COLD WAVE CONTINUES read the headline of the newspaper. I walked over to the window to my 63rd floor flat overlooking Navy Pier, Lake Shore Drive, and a frozen Lake Michigan with ice. Tarn was still pouring over the tome, looking for references to bonding, when a knock on the door interrupted him."Come," he replied to the knock.Ciril entered the study and approached the desk, lowering his head and waiting for his master to acknowledge his presence."Yes?" Tarn asked, looking up from the old book."My Prince, we believe the white-haired stranger was in Milan as late as two days ago. Our emissary there is dead." What about the Archduchess?" Alive and unharmed and apparently on. More

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