” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. “Begin violence, and the woman goes under. Jack was not half your age when he died. That shining slope of snow, and how we talked of death! We might have died! Even when we are old, when we are rich as we may be, we won’t forget the tune when we cared nothing for anything but the joy of one another, when we risked everything for one another, when all the wrappings and coverings seemed to have fallen from life and left it light and fire. But I'll tell you about him some other time.
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