John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. She gathered stones to place upon the makeshift grave. "Couldn't you speak to him?" "What?—and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" "That is it. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. Sheppard staggered forward. He leaned forward to embrace her. Courtlaw sat with folded arms. "I understand," she said.
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