“
table sat an antique ormolu clock, its hands frozen on the twelve and the ten, 11:50. The magic hour. The time when Zee’s ghosts appeared in the greenhouse wall. Bits and pieces of two scenarios were coming back to her, fitting together like a child’s jigsaw puzzle. She had, indeed, come to this place—Mathew Brady’s New York studio—a short time earlier to have her portrait made
”
”