He took out the writing case, freed the brass hook that kept it shut and examined the green solar glasses. He fiddled with the lens that had come out of its frame, finally got it to snap back in. He polished both lenses on his sleeve, straightened one of the wire wings. Then he went to where his coat was hanging on a peg by the door. He searched in the pockets for the remaining tincture bottle, drew it out, shook it, and held it to the light. It was still two-thirds full and the sight of it, the pink tint, tempted him for a moment. But what would it be to take his leave of them under the influence of laudanum? He would end up slack in front of a window, muttering to himself. He would see whales, dead fathers. He owed them something better than that.

It bothered him he had nothing for Jane. He considered giving her the writing case but could not picture her with it and, anyway, wanted it himself. His copy of Pilgrim’s Progress? Absurd. How about a part-used bar of Windsor soap? A cavalry pistol? He would, he decided, if it was possible, send her something later, a gift for the new child, a christening bracelet perhaps, though christening might well be something the community frowned upon.

He went to the kitchen. Emily was pouring boiling water from a pan into a coffee pot. Some of the water was already pooled around the base of the pot. “Put it down,” he said. “Emily. I will pour it.”

“You are very masterful this morning,” she said. She set the pan down and looked at him. He could not read her expression.

“You spoke in your sleep,” she said.

He cocked his head. “I did what?”

“You spoke in your sleep, John. Unhappily.”

“Ah. I am sorry for it.”

“Why? You were asleep. It was your true self that spoke.”

He nodded, then held out the solar glasses. “I have a present for you.”

She came closer. It was odd, like tempting a cat with a titbit. She took the glasses from him, turned them in her hands.

“Against the sun,” he said. “Do you think they will help?”

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you. I think they will.”

“Good.”

“Is green best against the sun?”

“I believe it is.”

“It will be like looking from the inside of a bottle,” she said, laughing. “Perhaps you should give them to Cornelius.”

“No,” he said, suddenly laughing too. “They are for you. I have something else for Cornelius.”