When I started this novel, I only knew that it was about a writers' retreat in upstate New York. I was expecting something literary, and the writing certainly was on that level, but midway through it turned into a novel of romantic suspense in the vein of Mary Stewart. I really like that kind of book, so it was fine with me, but I was surprised nonetheless. 
 Goodman is a fine writer, and her descriptions of nature are first-rate. My only objection is that she hits the novel's recurring motifs (white orchids and broken teacups) way too hard. By the tenth time someone broke a teacup in surprise, I was rolling my eyes. Still, I can forgive this since the rest of the novel is so good, a wonderful mixture of entertainment and elegance.