Miss inter died and t falling. ood ime at t of t sky. teration in teold us it o bed.

        I a ternoon.

        t eleped    separated us from t of tively as a prison key. Miss inter o as Emmeline, and rapped.

        t less. It    put ;    like t from one o anot ly at Judits restoratio, if iced it at all, left ally undisturbed.

        to a sideension of time, and urbable, made vegetable soup, ed td,    and tivity, played endless games of solitaire, but o distract terness.

        As for me, I spent ting up my final notes, but    settle to reading. Even S rea rying to name     in it. I realized t I missed Miss inter. So, o tco play cards ea er let Judith file and polish my own nails.

        In t sat out to linger on past its time.

        On to be overe by a vast sorrow.

        I aire at table. e o t onto t of t    drift so    into teness and    at bay for years by means of books and bookcases approacered by a tall o a sorro self, and as untainted. I cried for Miss inter, for , for Adeline and Emmeline. For my sister, my motly, and most terribly, I cried for myself. My grief    of t, nein, making sudden, sting g on a bencory lighe snow.

        o myself Dr. Clifton    an arm around me. “I know,” he said. “I know.”

        kno really. A s, o us all. “I know,” herefore, in a way, he did.

        o h.

        ‘Oh. ”Shall I bring cocoa?“

        ‘itouc, I think,“ he said.

        Maurice pulled out a co stoke the fire.

        I sipped tor    it or.

        Juditucked a sarted peeling potatoes for dinner. Sor made t—elepored—and in making took it upon to start ter deatopped us all in its tracks.

        Little by little ts melded togetion.

        I listeo ter a time, joined in.
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