She said, “You’ll be home for a while tomorrow, is that it?”

Her thoughts had jumped ahead to a check of his message. “That’s it,” he said. “Good night, sweetheart.”

He was getting into bed when Norma knocked on the door. He asked her to wait, then he asked her to come in.

She had put on the lumpy housecoat and her hair was pinned up, covered by a kerchief.

“I started to wonder if you would give me your unofficial, private opinion about what you’ve learned so far.” She sat down at the foot of the bed. “Now, in the pajamas you wear every night, you won’t be held responsible for what you say.”

He took his cigarettes from the night table. The furniture here was a red maple, neat and cheerful, but somehow—on a par with most guest rooms—less than the hostess’ best effort. He said, “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

“I suppose a lot depends on how your partner does with the books and papers.”

“Your husband used codes for a reason.”

“What do you think Betty Kaminsky will have to say?”

“I have my fingers crossed.”

“Do you really think Colin was faithful?”

“Yes. To you, yes.”

“But he wasn’t to his first wife. I’m not so much.”

“Norma, you’re digging yourself into a hole. You’ll have to be patient. This was thrust upon you, but for your own sake, you have to stand up to it. You have a long life ahead. Don’t let this wreck it.”

“I always wanted to be married. It’s all I ever wanted.”

“I know.”

“I can feel his baby kicking me. He’ll never see his own child. I cry for him. I know I have to start all over, but I’m nowhere near solid enough. You’ve had your bad times. How did you get through them?”

“They were never as bad as what you’re living with. At least I thought I knew why things had gone badly.”

“You thought. But that was all you needed, wasn’t it? An explanation? As long as you had a reason why you were there, you were all right?”

“I think so.”

“You know how badly I need a reason,” she said.

“I’m learning, kid.”

In her distress she smiled a little smile, mischievous, game. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Sure.”

“You’ve always loved your wife, haven’t you?”

“It’s complicated. I mean that. It wouldn’t be fair to you or her to try to explain.”

“You’ve never been with anyone but her, though.”

He was stunned. “Are you really asking me?”

She put her hands on her knees. “I think I’m telling.” Her attitude was so bright and childlike that he wanted to laugh.

“One. There has been one. And for a while I loved her, too.”