At the door Lilian made her last turn. Good-bye, she said. For that is what she had come to say.

Mrs. Finch, is it? said the clerk in the lobby. A gentleman was asking for you. He was asking if—the clerk began, but Lilian rushed past.

58 • A new life

58 • A new life

SHE WALKED and walked. She had too much in her to stop. All those secret thoughts. They were not made to stand in natural light; exposed, they looked deformed and pitiful.

She thought of Gilbert, and pictured him buttering his morning toast, scratch scratch, accepting everything that came along. She felt protected by that. He would not glimpse her. She would be left alone.

The night went from blue to black. The expectation she’d had when she was young for something else did not die in her right away, but on that night it began to fade and continued to do so gradually. She did not notice its dimming and one day it would simply be gone.

For some reason she thought of Aunt Tizzy and how the older woman had patted her hand today during their visit, and not so feebly at that.

So it didn’t depend on Walter Vail after all, and it wouldn’t depend on Gilbert either. And yet here she was: entering the sturdy door in Brookline, coming into the dark hall. The light in the library was on.

She found Gilbert in his chair, with papers on his lap, his tie strangling him, and a drink on the table beside.

You’re back, she said.

Gilbert raised his pale tired eyes. The cigar in his mouth prevented him from speaking.

Did you get any dinner?

He removed the cigar. A piece of pie, he said. His movements were slow, perhaps fatigue, perhaps drink.

Not more? Would you like me to see — ?

He shook his head. Everything all right, Lily?

Certainly. Did you see the children?

Sound asleep. He began to go through his papers. Where have you been? he said absently.

In town. Dolly’s redone their living room again.

It’s after ten, I was worried. His eyes were following the print on the page before him.

I walked a little after dinner — this thaw makes it lovely out.

I hope you weren’t alone.

It was on the Hill.

I wondered if you weren’t coming home.

She was startled for a moment then saw he didn’t mean what she’d thought. Where else would I go?

She went to put her coat away and came back into the room.

I thought this spring I might make a trip to Rome, she said.

I’m not sure I can go.

Then I’ll go by myself.

Lucky you, he said. He stood up, and went for another drink.

I could ask Jane, she said.

Yes, be better with someone.

You wouldn’t mind?

Why should I mind? Be wonderfully tonic for you.