She made me know I was.

Then, we were lying side by side, holding hands. Breathing together, our hearts beating together. Somehow, there was perfume in the air, although I knew Amy never wore none; and somehow you could hear violins playin’, so sweet and so soft, playing a song that never was. It was like there wasn’t any yesterday, like there’d been no time before this, and I wondered why it should ever be any other way.

“Amy,” I said, and she rolled her head to look at me. “Let’s get away from this town, honey, let’s us run away together.”

She was silent for a moment, seeming to think the idea over. Then she said I couldn’t think very much of her or I wouldn’t make such a suggestion.

“You’re a married man. I’m afraid you might have a great deal of trouble in getting unmarried. What does that make me, the woman who runs away with you?”

“Well, looky, honey,” I said. “This sure ain’t satisfactory, the way we’re doin’ now. We sure can’t go on like this, can we?”

“Do we have a choice?” Her shoulders moved in a shrug. “Now if you had money—you don’t, do you, dear? No, I thought not—you might be able to make a settlement with your wife, and we could leave town. But in the absence of money - -

“Well, uh, about that now . . .” I cleared my throat. “I reckon they’s a lot of fellas that’d be too proud to accept money from a woman. But the way I look at it—”

“I don’t have it, Nick, popular opinion to the contrary notwithstanding. I own a number of income properties, and the rentals enable me to live quite well by Pottsville standards. But they’d bring very little at a sale. Certainly not enough to support two people for the rest of their lives, let alone assuage the wounded feelings of a wife like yours.”

I hardly knew what to say to that. Maybe, well, maybe my feelings was kind of hurt. Because I knew just about as much about the property she owned as she did, and I knew she was a lot better off than she pretended.

She just didn’t want to get things squared up and go off with me. Or just run away with me like any woman should if she was really in love with a fella. But it was her money, so what the heck could I do about it?

Amy picked up my hand and put it on one of her breasts. She squeezed it, trying to press it into her flesh, but I didn’t help her none, and finally she pushed it away.

“All right, Nick,” she said. “I’ll tell you the real reason I won’t go away with you.”

I said to never mind, I wouldn’t want to trouble her none, and she snapped for me not to dare to be rude to her. “Don’t you dare, Nicholas Corey! I love you—at least, it seems to be love to me—and because I do, I’m willing to accept something that I never thought I could accept. But don’t you be rude to me, or I might change. I might cease to love a man who I know is a murderer!”