"Oh, of course. I was just thinking about something." He broke the seal and pulled out a small sheet of cream-colored paper. Beall unfolded the letter...and looked at the subscription. "From the fellow we had supper with, Wainright. Don't think I knew his name was 'William' before." Yes, and?" his wife asked, her knitting fingers stilled."Guess I will be going down to Georgetown tomorrow. The constable wants to see me. He writes that he has caught a murderer and that he knows who paid for Joan. "Well, then you should have no problem out doing our next contestant," he replied with a bit of a laugh, turning his attention to the crowd, knowing Miranda could dismiss herself."Well, that was fun," commented Miranda as Misty leaped into her arms the instant the woman had both feet upon the ground."It was wonderful," said Misty, happy tears forming in her eyes as she hugged Miranda."Just like you," assured the courier, leaning down to kiss Misty and missing the next poet's name and point of. You know, though, I’d never seen live musicians. I never saw people playing because they wanted to play for their friends. I actually never recognized any of the commercial musicians as LOVING their music. Maybe that’s short-sighted, but it has become MY view.I guess that’s why I loved listening to Sandy. When she was playing, she was IN the music. Same thing I saw in Alabama. When they played, they were IN the music and music was a way to share something good with friends, just like bringing a. Without looking up from his glass, he continued. "But not the way you probably think. I've been with some of the most beautiful women in the world: models, movie stars, professional cheerleaders. They're all gorgeous, my friend," he paused to finish off his drink with one swallow. "But they are as hollow as this glass."His words resonated with me on different levels. Aside from the bragging tone and the tall-tale aspect of his claims, I could relate to his plight. In my own relationships, few.