Did I tell you?
she was distractedher
eyes moved about the roomwerent fixedwasnt really not really talking to
him talking out loud perhaps to herself
he spoke quietly so not to startle
her or distract her Wha
Let me tell you what I mean.
she
didnt look at him maybe she was talking
to the quiet voice that emanated Wha
If you tell me then you can explain whaya meant
she tiltedtipped her head to one
side like a small bird her posture alert to flee still deciding if the voice was a threat or not
I didn’t tell you? she ventured still not looking at him
they were
the only ones in the sitting room a library
yellow the musk of old books in
the air pleasant narcotic
No
Why didn’t I?
I do not know
I’m not embarrassed.
No Youdon appear to be
I’m not.
If I were I’d say so. her arms drifted off the arms of the chair she drew her hands down into her lap she
worn a long dress buttoned down the entire length she fiddled with one buttonfiddling with it between
her thumbs and index fingers slender
delicate hands and fingers
I could tell you what I mean . .
but I’m not sure you’d understandI don’t wish to waste your time . as valuable
as time is . . and if you don’t understand me I’ll have wasted it.
Its for you to assess that risk
RISK that sparked something she turned her head and looked at himsaw
him truly the birdishness goneher tremulous posture her spine fixed itself she shifted
she did not stop at the bone button between
her fingers
he hoped shed unbutton it
open herself up but one button one small measure
she did not stop at the bone
button between her fingers
her eyes looked like buttons hard
unblinking
trying to decide he thought
maybe
No. I don’t think I’ll waste my
time.
that hurt
he did not deign it did
he kept his poker face
No, I shan’t waste either of our
time.
she quit at the button relaxed her
fingers and hands
Then he stood up solemnly Ill excuse myself take my leave I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening Good night
Thank you. Good night.
walking away going out of the
room he could feel her eyes follow him watching him asif he were a ghost he wasnt too sure he wasnt he couldnt hear his footsteps on the lavish
Indian carpet
passing out the doorwayturning
left he looked out the corner of his eye for a fleeting moment
shehadntmoved
he wondered what it was
he went up the broad staircase to
his room on the third floor
he poured himself a whisky from a
decanter sipped it undressed sipped it did his toiletry carried the whisky to
his bedside table set it down opened the window to the night air it embraced him
he looked at the moon saw the yellowlight escaping from the library lie on the
lawn he turned to the nightstand took another sip turned back in the panel of yellowlight on the lawn
he saw her silhouetteagitated moving one side to the other in profile
he left the window sat in the
chair beside the bedstand sipped his whisky
when he finished it he turned down
his bed turned off the lamp and laid down
the bed was pleasant
the fresh air entering the room
was pleasant
falling
asleep his last thought
he wondered what she didnt tell
1056, Thursday,
29 4. 21
