Chapter 44

           Shecamewithherlovelyswalingwalktowardsthelamplight,towardsthetable,inthecorneroftheterrace,inawhitedressunderablackeveningcloak.ItlookedmoreanEmpirethanaFirstWorldWardress,butIassumedthatitwasinperiod.ConchisandIstoodforher.Sheallowedhimtotakeoffhercloak,thenbowedimperceptiblytome.Wesat,Conchispouredheracupofcoffee."NicholasandIhavebeendiscussingreligion."Itwastrue.HehadbroughtaBibletotable,withtworeferenceslipsinit;andwehadgotontoGodandno-God."Indeed."Shelookedatme;almostwithhostility,soformally,inrole."Nicholascallshimselfanagnostic.Butthenhewentontosaythathedidnotcare."Sheswitchedhereyesbacktome."Whydoyounotcare?"Wehadreturnedtouncontractedforms."Moreimportantthings.""Isanythingmoreimportant?""Practicallyeverything,Ishouldhavethought."Shepressedherlipstogether,andstareddownatthetableclothwithoutspeaking.’ThensheleantforwardandpickedupaboxofmatchesIhadleftonthetable.Shetookoutadozenmatchsticksandbegantobuildahouse."PerhapsyouareafraidtothinkaboutGod.""Onecan’tthinkaboutwhatcannotbeknown.""Youneverthinkaboutwhatisnotcertain?Abouttomorrow?Aboutnextyear?""Ofcourse.Icanmakereasonablepropheciesaboutthem."Sheplayedwiththematches,pushingthemidlyintopatternswithherlongfingers.Iwatchedherbeautifulmouth;wishedIcouldendthecolddialogue."IcanmakereasonablepropheciesaboutGod.

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