As she and Richard turned to go back inside, Ann noticed that Aunt Marion was standing at her bedroom window on the second floor, also watching the boys' limousine fade away into the night. But as soon as Ann looked up, Aunt Marion pulled back, letting the curtain drop back into place.

***

Damien sank luxuriously into the back seat of the limousine. 'Oh, boy!' he exclaimed and let out a low whistle.

'You said it,' Mark agreed. 'What a weekend. I thought I was going to scream!'

'Well, let's do it now,' said Damien, and they both did, almost blasting Murray's eardrums.

'Murray,' said Damien, when the scream had subsided, 'give us a cigarette.'

Murray shook his head at the rearview mirror. 'You know the answer to that one, Damien.'

Damien shrugged. If you don't ask, you never know.' Suddenly he wheeled around in the seat, lifted his right hand to his face, and thumbed his nose in the direction of the house. 'Aunt Marion!' he shouted. 'For you!'

Mark joined in the salute with a loud and discordant note on his bugle. 'God,' he said, turning back, 'she's awful. Why do they ever let her come?'

'Just so she can wag her finger at us and criticize us and spoil our whole weekend, that's why,' Damien explained.

'At least we didn't have to have another dinner with her tonight.' Whenever Mark got overexcited about something, he tended to talk in italics. 'She's got to be a hundred years old,' he went on. 'And what's that smell?'

'That's lavender, you dope,' said Damien. 'All old ladies douse themselves in it.'

'Now, boys,' said Murray, interrupting their youthful cruelty, 'just because the woman's getting on—'

'Getting on our nerves!' said Mark, laughing at his own joke.

Damien's manner changed abruptly. 'Murray's right,' he said, much to his own amazement.

Mark looked at him to see if he was kidding. He wasn't.

‘The poor woman's time is up,' Damien heard himself say. 'We shouldn't be making fun of her.'

Damien's manner was so odd that Mark fell silent. Murray finally broke the silence by changing the subject.

'Have you boys met your new platoon leader yet?' he asked.

They both shook their heads.

'I was hoping they wouldn't be able to find another one,' said Mark.

Damien shrugged. 'If you don't ask, you never know.' more like it.

'Did they ever tell you what happened to Sergeant Goodrich?' asked Murray.

'Nope,' said Damien, nudging Mark in the ribs with his elbow. Playtime again.

'They say he committed suicide.' Murray checked his rearview mirror for the boys' reaction. There was none. Suicide didn't seem to upset them.