She had been so young then. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced. Gerald looked at it, then at her face. You promise to become a first-rate workman. She glared at him with satisfaction. When next he asked for her, some twelve hours later, he was told that Mademoiselle had left. Wood became sensible that he was not alone. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. It moved a trifle, stepping back and lifting an arm to rub the sleeve against the glass.
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