Little Rider KeychainSmack, smack a leather crop, a long forelock, a dressage dance diagonally across the ring; the focused arch of the horses neck and that pause of improbable air between crossed stepsShaken out of this memory, she heard someone in the hotel lobby address her. Oh, yes, the key to room No. 68. She felt the weight in her pocket, realizing she had been stroking the tassel unknowingly in the silk cradle of her pocket lining. One cant underestimate the quiet