She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. “You heard no pistol-shot?” “None. How are you?” “I’m fine,” she said, unaware of all events except for the voice on the other line. She frowned and gripped her hands about her knees very tightly. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. Visible underneath his collar were some metal tags. “After all, how easy the descent is, even for the greatest of us.
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