“Our ways happened to lie together. ‘But you are idiot. He had been baptized there. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. ” “I’ll wait, then.
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