Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. Not I. She thought study would be better. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. A very familiar face emerged from a crowd at the impromptu bar on the kitchen island. I give you the plain, unadulterated truth. "But if you do not find this aunt, what will you do? What can you do to protect yourself against hunger?" "I'll find something.
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