. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. He did not come out of his chloroform coma and sailed weakly to his death. This was enough for the poor widow. On the day he carried the manuscript to Copeley's he brought back a packet of letters, magazines, and newspapers. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. ’ Taken aback, Gerald let out a short laugh. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees.
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