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Four
Nowifyou’regoingtothemarket,it’sthroughhere,upthisway."Shegesturedtowardanarrowpassagewaythatroseupintothedimnessinfrontofthem,barelyilluminatedbythebeamofherflashlight.
Richarddidnotmove.Hefeltnumb.Hefoundithardtobelievethattheratgirlwasgone—lost,orstolen,orstrayed,or...—andhardertobelievethattheleatherwomanwasabletocarryonasifnothingatalloutoftheordinaryhadhappened—asifthiswereutterlyusual.Anaesthesiacouldnotbedead
Hecompletedthethought.Shecouldnotbedead,becauseifshewere,thenitwashisfault.Shehadnotaskedtogowithhim.Heheldthequartzbeadsotightlyithurthishand,thinkingofthepridewithwhichAnaesthesiahadshownittohim,ofhowfondhehadbecomeofherinthehandfulofhoursthathehadknownher.
"Areyoucoming?"
Richardstoodthereinthedarknessforafewpoundingheartbeats,thenheplacedthequartzbeadgentlyintothepocketofhisjeans.Hefollowedthewoman,whowasstillsomepacesaheadofhim.Ashefollowedher,herealizedthathestilldidnotknowhername.
