She patted a yawn. "But its nothing. Just messages I leave with the answeringservice so Mr. OShaughnessy will know for sure that Ive been up there. Sally tellsme what to say, things like, oh, theres a hurricane in Cuba and its snowing inPalermo. Dont worry, darling," she said, moving to the bed, "Ive taken care ofmyself a long time." The morning light seemed refracted through her: as she pulledthe bed covers up to my chin she gleamed like a transparent child; then she laydown beside me. "Do you mind? I only want to rest a moment. So lets dont sayanother word. Go to sleep."

I pretended to, I made my breathing heavy and regular. Bells in the tower of thenext-door church rang the half-hour, the hour. It was six when she put her hand onmy arm, a fragile touch careful not to waken. "Poor Fred," she whispered, and itseemed she was speaking to me, but she was not. "Where are you, Fred? Becauseits cold. Theres snow in the wind." Her cheek came to rest against my shoulder, awarm damp weight.

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