But neither Susan nor Lynn seemed right for a Quaker girl converting to Catholicism, as I had been in the process of doing with Father James, wishing to fill the long empty hours with something commensurate with my desire and because I loved him and believed he would like me better with a name like Mary.
The art of the puppeteer, however, is passed within families strictly from father to eldest son as a secret process, which has preserved an ancient repertoire of techniques and stories supposedly originating with a travelling entertainer around the eighteenth century.