solitude。 We can each just go our own way。〃 He looked at her。 〃I know this area； and； trust me； there won"t be another place to stay on such short notice。〃 She tucked a handful of hair behind her ear。 This wasn"t quite the vacation she had imagined； but he had a point。 He didn"t seem willing to leave。 Barring her own return to New York； there wasn"t any alternative。 Her thumb moved on the ceramic mug。 〃This isn"t what I wanted。〃 〃Me； neither。 But it"s the only fair thing。 If I have to put up with your hot showers； you can put up with my black coffee。〃 〃What about the beds？ Every move you make rattles on the ceiling。 I wanted to sleep。〃 〃Yeah； I wanted that； too； but the bed up there is too damned small and unfortable。 Why don"t you try sleeping there？〃 〃Because you"re there。〃 〃Then why don"t I sleep downstairs？〃 〃Because I"m there。〃 〃Damn it；〃 he sighed； 〃I don"t want to share your bed。 Why don"t we just switch？〃 She wasn"t a fool。 〃After you"ve told me how small and unfortable the attic one is？ No way！〃 〃Then don"t plain about the noise。〃 In one swift move he was up； stacking the dishes； dumping them in the sink。 When he turned back to her； a silver wave had fallen across his brow。 〃You clean up。 I cooked。〃 He left the room so quickly that Anne"s protest met thin air。 〃But…it was…my food…〃 Slowly she faced the dishes。 If this was a preview of the week； things looked grim。 But Anne was tired of grim； so she took a positive approach。 Starting with a long walk through the woods； she followed the line of a low stone wall across the hilltop and down a gently graded slope until the road intersected her path。 The view was spectacular from several points where the forest door opened to the village below； its tall white church steeple catching the afternoon sun。 As she followed the dirt road back to the house； the climb steepened。 She stopped to rest a time or two。 All was peaceful。 The murmur of the breeze was a wele switch from the grating sounds of the city； the lush ferns on the forest floor were a far cry from stone sidewalks； the chipmunk skuttling through the brush was far better than a guard dog on a leash by the curb。 Accustomed to the gray of the pigeon； she smiled at the chickadee"s black cap and white bib and the red breast of the robin。 She watched the play of the sun through the boughs of thick； healthy trees。 The crispness of the air； sharp without chill； invigorated her。 When she finally returned to the house； Mitch was nowhere about。 No car； no man； no note。 Exhausted from fresh air and lack of sleep； she stretched out on her quilt and fell into a deep and restful sleep。 The tension of the past weeks took its due。 When she awakened； it was dusk。 After freshening up in the bathroom； she fixed a supper of soup and crackers； then settled before the fire to finish the mystery she"d started。 But the story"s momentum had been broken。 She never quite got back into the terror of it。 When she finished the last page； she sat back to watch the flames。 Their play entranced her； calmed her； lulled her into a peaceful daze； and for the very first time； and at long last； she felt removed from Jeff"s death。 It had been a nightmare…first news of the plane crash； then the limbo when rescue teams set to work； hope when survivors appeared； total and utter despair when the worst became reality。 But her heart felt lighter now than it had at any time since then。 She didn"t know if it was the change of scenery； or the start of true healing。 But it felt good。 Of course； Mitch was still gone。 Though it was after nine； he hadn"t returned。 Just as well。 They were like fire and water。 She had to give him points； though。 He hadn"t gone on and on about what a shame it was； how young a widow she made； how tragic that Jeff had been taken from life in his prime。 She"d had enough pity to last a lifetime。 So he can"t be all bad； she mused； even if he does make bitter coffee。 The evening passed quietly。 Anne left her chair only to feed the fire。 After a time； her lids grew heavy。 She fell into deep sleep from which only the sensation of movement much later disturbed her。 She opened groggy eyes to find herself in Mitch"s arms。 〃What are you doing？〃 she cried and began to squirm。 He held her tighter。 〃Putting you to bed。〃 They were already at the door of her room。 〃Put me down。 I don"t need your help。〃 He dropped her on the bed。 〃Don"t worry。 I"m not doing you any favors。 I"m thinking of me。 You were sleeping in my chair。〃 Before she could begin to call him out； he pivoted and left； slamming the door behind him。 Sunday brought more of the same。 On the plus side； the weather was grand； crisp and clear once the early…morning fog lifted。 Having slept her fill； Anne was up early； putting on her own pot of coffee to assure herself a cup to her liking； before showering and dressing。 The door to the attic remained closed。 If Mitch was still asleep； he slept soundly。 Everything overhead was silent。 After breakfast； she rewalked yesterday"s route； this time extending it to the brook that babbled down the far hillside。 In keeping with the nip in the air； the first of the birch leaves were starting to yellow。 The sun picked them out from the rest and added a glow。 Removing her sneakers； she rolled up her jeans and； where the water was shallow； waded across flat granite boulders。 It was the kind of thing she and Jeff would have done。 Now she was alone； yet strangely peaceful。 Enjoying herself； she leaped lightly from stone to stone。 Returning invigorated to the house； she tackled the first of the papers she had to translate； making good headway with the English…to…Spanish piece until her stomach grumbled。 By then there were stirrings from the upper quarter。 She worked until he was in the bathroom and dallied in the kitchen until he returned to his room。 When he came downstairs； she was back at work； sitting at the small desk that stood beneath a side window of the living room。 Then the trouble began。 For nearly ten minutes he looked over her shoulder while she worked as best she could。 Then he made a racket