’ ‘Wouldn’t you?’ ‘In Valade’s place, with so much at stake—and more perhaps than he thought, for if he goes to the lawyers he’s bound to find out about this house—’ Hilary said it for him. She longed to allow him to kiss her again, to touch her again. You feel that that smile is for you, the words are for you, the whole song is for you. She moved forward almost indiscernibly, a millimeter. She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. My only love is for my poor lost son. . Now he lay there, a doubled-up mass, with ugly distorted features, and a dark wet stain dripping slowly on to the carpet.
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