She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone. “Yes. “That’s all,” she said “I’m afraid I’m a little confused about these things. “Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have said it is useless for us to play with words. Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. It took her only two towns away, near the Arby’s where Mike worked.
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