Evelyn jumped slightly, her fantasies interrupted by the voice of a man to her right. She stepped back as if frightened at the stranger who she hadn’t seen here before, prior to forcing herself to relax and give a half smile. [b]”No, but thank you. I was just visiting my husband…”[/b] she trailed off, eyes flitting to the side as she moved only a few feet more before stopping. In front of her was a homely gravestone, the carving reading [i]Marcus de Winter, 1850-1879, Love Lives On[/i]. Evelyn casually waved to the stone before looking back to the stranger. [b]”See? This is him,”[/b] she said, as if she were introducing them, alive and at a party, smiling a little more before relaxing the grip on her coat. It was slightly chilly but she didn’t want to seem unfriendly, like she was fearful of the man by her body language. [b]”I was just coming to tell him goodnight before heading home,”[/b] she said, voice a softer tone, like she was remembering something, and as if asking permission from this man to go on about her way.