She was not altogether surprised when she found a deer, gutted of its entrails and strung with a garland of flowers, on the cave’s doorstep one humid summer morning. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. Hugging him in the beautiful dress in front of the teenagers was strangely soothing to her. . For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. She leaned over and kissed his cheek innocently. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. "To be sure he has!" returned Mrs. ” She taunted.
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