“I think Lew’s going mad. I think he’s going mad again.” She broke off, feeling tearful.

Raj looked uncomfortable, exposed and unable to find refuge in the null of humor.

“He was saying crazy things today about being a crow or an eye or something.”

Raj plucked at his chin, staring into the floor as if searching for something. “He’s said some strange things to me too. I just make a joke of it and he seemed all right.”

“He has? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged and sat up as Ruth returned with a tray of tea and cookies.

Taking a handful of cookies, Raj said, “I’ll leave you to your interview, ladies.”

“When are you heading off to Nora’s?” Annie asked.

“About an hour or so.”

“I’ll walk back to town with you.”

The interview was brief, focusing on what it took to make a living writing romance novels. Slipping her pad and pencil back into her bag, Annie said, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Off the record?”

Annie nodded. “Is this how you wanted things to be in your life? I mean if Mr. Travers hadn’t died.”

“Oliver was almost fifteen years younger. I doubt he would have stayed.”

“But you’re beautiful.”

“You’re sweet, Annie. I look okay for my age, but I found that with Oliver I was becoming a vampire. I avoided any direct sunlight. I was wearing my hair down all the time so I didn’t look like an old lady, though it drove me crazy. I developed a deep hatred for my neck, which has never done anything to me except support my head, poor thing.”

“But it’s all right for you to live…like this? I mean, not to…not to have someone?”

“I have Fifty-Three. He adores me and eats leftovers…. I don’t know. I mean I sometimes see myself in ten or twenty years as this old woman with a stout walking stick, taking long hikes in the country. God, Annie, you look as if I just told you I was going to bury myself alive. I also think of retiring to St. Louis, teaching new immigrants English.” She laughed at herself. “I fantasize about having this extended family of little happy grateful immigrants, like dancing midgets.”

Annie remembered to smile, but she was feeling desperate. “What kind of man do you think you could be with for all your life?”

“I don’t know. They all seemed temporary, somehow—even Oliver.”

“What if you met a married man and you loved him and he loved you and he didn’t love his wife or his wife was sick or something?”

“That’s an odd question.”

“What would you do?”

“You haven’t met a married man, have you?”

“No. I just…what would you do?”

“Try to stay away from him, I guess.”

“But you can’t.”