But if she smiled at all it was with her eyes. “But you yourself,” she exclaimed, glancing into his face, “you too look tired. Nothing else matters. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress. ‘Alors, you make a game with me, I see that. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat.
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