Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. Wood. I just suppose it isn’t worth the trouble. For a time she furnished the flat. ‘No sense in snooping about down here,’ Gerald whispered. . She turned to Martha as the lad exited by the back door, but her nurse forestalled anything she might have said. She struggled fiercely not to give way. For hours he seemed to have pleasant dreams of open skies and airplanes, but then the dreams would disintegrate into fleshy charnel house nightmares where he could hear her calling to him through a fog. Cathy sighed. Too late.
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