her。 I’ve long since forgotten about marriage。 Besides； I am

married。”

“If　you　still　want　to　marry　him；　I’m　willing　to　give　you　my　blessing　now。”

“I　wish　not　to　be　wed　to　him。”

“Why？”

“Because　it’s　against　your　will。　In　all　sincerity；　I　desire　nobody　that　you　do

not　want。”

I　noticed；　momentarily；　the　coals　in　the　stove　reflected　in　her　eyes。　Her　eyes

had　aged；　not　out　of　unhappiness；　but　anger；　yet　there　was　no　trace　of　offense

in　her　voice。

“Black　is　in　love　with　you；”　I　said　as　if　divulging　a　secret。

“I　know。”

“He　listened　to　all　I　had　to　say　today　not　out　of　his　love　of　painting；　but　out

of　his　love　for　you。”

“He　will　plete　your　book；　this　is　what　matters。”

“Your　husband　might　return　one　day；”　I　said。

“I’m　not　certain　why；　perhaps　it’s　the　silence；　but　tonight　I’ve　realized　once

and　for　all　that　my　husband　will　never　return。　What　I’ve　dreamt　seems　to　be

the truth： They must’ve killed him。 He’s long since turned to dust。” She

whispered the last statement lest the sleeping children hear。 And she said it

with　a　peculiar　tinge　of　anger。

“If　they　happen　to　kill　me；”　I　said；　“I　want　you　to　finish　this　book　to　which

I’ve　dedicated　everything。　Swear　that　you　will。”

“I　give　my　word。　Who　will　be　the　one　to　plete　your　book？”

“Black！　You　can　ensure　that　he　does　so。”

“You　are　alrea