“Oh, a long time ago. Just after the storm began. Here, have a little tea. You look tired.”

“Which way did he go?” Though I knew I must find him at once, I could not leave for my amazement at the way she sat there, offering me a cup of tea. What would she be able to say to herself if I found him dead? And I knew, without believing it, that if I did, she would not feel the least necessity of making excuses to anyone, certainly not to herself.

She laughed uncertainly. “I don’t know which way he went, but he went fast.” And then, reaching out her hand to me she whispered desperately, “Let him go, for God’s sake, Sonia, let him go!”