She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as empty as hers? Some living thing that depended upon her. . . Wood. ’ ‘Yes, a pretty theory, Lucy,’ Gerald said evenly, ‘but for one thing. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. As for me, if they don’t at least help a little with college I’m leaving and I’m never coming back. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. Thank you for walking me home the other day.
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