’ ‘Must we talk of it? I’m trying to forget it. Despite her busy work schedule, Sheila had always been a social person, a talker, a joiner of neighborhood groups, a town council member, a PTA worker, and a thrower of neighborhood coffee klatches. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. ’ He scratched his chin as if he thought about it, but covertly kept a careful study of what he could see of her face.
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