Section 3. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. 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. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. It’s no good. What is done cannot be undone.
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