They drank gin and tonics (Paul had brought the ingredients, plus glassware, and even a ziplock bag of half-melted ice) while Harry dressed in his only dark suit, a Ludlow from J.Crew that was a little short in the sleeves. Then together they went downstairs and found Alice, who was in the kitchen, meticulously arranging the flowers she’d cut. Harry thought of the ragged bouquet on the footpath and wondered again who had left it there. He’d forgotten to ask Alice if it was her.

Paul had probably met Alice three times at most, but he hugged her as though she was related, holding on until she let out a small, sniffly sob. “Paul, are you staying? I didn’t make up the guest room.”

“I’m not. Just for the service, then I’m going back to Mather. I’m missing the graduation but I’m not missing the graduation party. Unless, Harry . . .” Paul turned toward Harry, a questioning look on his face.

“No, no, no. Please go back. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll come and visit this summer,” Paul said, as Alice wiped tears from her face with an index finger. Her blond hair was swept back in a French braid that went down her back. She wore a dark grey dress, low cut in the front, but with a black shawl over her shoulders. Her face was chalky white, more startling because of the bright crimson lipstick she’d put on. Harry tried to remember if he’d ever seen her with lipstick, and decided that the last time had probably been when she had married his father, at a low-key ceremony at a hotel in Ogunquit. It seemed a long time ago, but it was less than four years.