My father thought the latter. “So Brendon and I,” he said, “have been troubled with the same fears. One from 1966, a yearbook photo reprinted in a newspaper. Vorsack sauntered into the room, sporting her usual toothy thin254 lipped grin. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. ‘Lord in heaven, could it be so?’ ‘Don’t look at me,’ exploded Hilary. “As she asked!” “It is already too late. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days.
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