Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. He was asleep. “What year was 221 that, about 1350?” He asked in wonderment. There ends my duty. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. She played “Happy Birthday” for John, after which they plied her with a dozen requests. Love stories! It was of negligible importance that these books were bound in paper; Romance lay unalterably within. ’ ‘Also stealing,’ added Gerald, with a gesture at the clothes on the bed. She spotted her opportunity. ‘What do we do now?’ Gerald took a pace towards the girl.
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