The wonderful Mary Stewart has passed away. I've written about her previously here and here, but I just wanted to say that I'm . . . I'm so sad. The first line of the first Stewart book I read (which happened to be her very first book as well) reads, "The whole affair began so very quietly." I spent the summer after my freshman year of college devouring anything of hers I could get my hands on. One year, for my birthday, my husband tracked down beautiful copies of every one of her books. I went into my library last night and ran a finger along their beloved spines. And as I type this now I'm stepping off the plane in Paris with Linda, navigating the twisted streets of Provence with Charity, climbing the sun-dried ruins of Delphi with Camilla, and I think—my, what a legacy.