It’s an old song, written in 1891 by Charles K. Harris, After the Ball. I couldn’t help but think of that deliciously saccharine song a few days after the launch of my speculative fiction novel, Caliban. Why I thought of that, I have no idea. Perhaps it’s the sentimentality of the ballad, perhaps the voices that once trilled through its notes. It’s a sad song, for all of its sentimentality. Perhaps my remembrance of it had more…