“I have come for an explanation,” she said. ” She spoke rather quickly, because she found her father’s question the most awkward she had ever had to answer in her life. She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter. It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. Your face has flitted out of my watch-fire, and then I have been a haunted man. My Mom and Dad were always 184 at work. They set about everyone—everyone. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony.
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