F or several minutes, the man who had intruded on her space sat back in his chair and looked silently out to sea. But soon his eye was drawn to the manuscript. "Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry," she said. Turned a page.
"Griff”, he replied.
"A scholar whose work I do not know, a critical term with which I am not familiar, or your name?"
"My name. Is that a local mural?" Griff pointed a large hand at the book on the table.
"It is a facsimile of a 15th century French manuscript. I'm Caydance Skye O'Brien." While she was talking, Griff reached across the table and slid the book to his side of the table.
