“Is your head bothering you?" Louisa asked. But she wasn't paying much attention. Frederick, her ridiculously fat basset hounds, had spotted a fellow canine in the distance and was yanking on the lead. "Frederick!" she yelped, tripping on a step or two before she found her footing.Frederick stopped, althought it wasn't clear if it was due to Louisa's hold on the lead or outright exhaustion. He let out a hugh sigh, and frankly, Annabel was suprised that he didn't collapse on the ground."I think someone has been sneaking him sausages again," Louisa grumbled.Annabel looked elsewhere."Annabel!""He looked so HUNGERY," Annabel insisted.Louisa motioned toward her dog, whos belly slid along the grass. "THAT looks hungery?""His eyes looked hungery.”

“You've already danced with him," Louisa said.Annabel nodded. "I know.""People will talk."Annabel turned and blinked, trying to set her cousin's face into focus. "People are already talking," she said.Louisa opened her mouth as if she planned to say more, but then she just smiled. "Annabel Winslow," she said softly, "I do believe you are falling in love."That snapped Annabel right out of her daze. "I'm not.""Oh, you are.""I hardly know him.""Apparently you know enough.”

“When he looked up at Annabel, he was just a man, looking at a woman, praying and hoping that she loved him the way he loved her.”

“Today I glory in my sixdom.""Sixdom?""Sixitude."Annabel started to grin."Sixulation," Louisa proclaimed.”

“You know, Silas shouldn’t have something so indecent like this lying about,” Ann said. “One of the children might see it.” She brightened. “I know! We should put some clothes on it! That would make it all right, don’t you think?”“Oh, by all means. Do clothe the woman,” Louisa said, laughter bubbling up from the back of her throat.Ann flitted around the room looking for something appropriate. “Ah, this’ll be fine,” she said, her back to Louisa. She fooled with the thing a bit, then turned and held it up for Louisa’s approval.It took Louisa a second to recognize what Ann had chosen to clothe the poor beleaguered fertility goddess in, but as soon as she did, she burst into laughter.Silas’s drawers. Ann had clothed the carving in Silas’s dirty drawers.After that, Louisa couldn’t stop laughing. Ann had tied the legs around the carving’s neck so that the back side of the unlaced drawers covered her front. It was truly a site to behold. And when Ann looked at her in all innocence, obviously unaware that the lady’s clothing was as indecent as the lady herself, Louisa laughed so hard her sides hurt.“Louisa, are you alright?” Ann asked as she went to her friend’s side. “I swear, you’re behaving strange today. Really strange.”Louisa couldn’t even speak. All she could do was laugh and point at the carving.“This?” Ann asked as she held the carving up. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like her fine woolen dress?”Louisa erupted in more peals of laughter.Unfortunately, it was just at that moment, when Louisa was laughing herself to death and Ann was waving the carving about in the air, that Silas chose to make his untimely entrance.“What are you females going in here?” his raspy male voice roared from the doorway, making them both jump.Ann dropped the carving at once, watching as it rolled across the wooden floor, losing its exotic gown in the process.Louisa managed to rein in her laughter, though a few chuckles still bubbled out of her.“We wasn’t doin’ nothin’, truly,” Ann began to babble. “Louisa said . . . I mean . . . we thought . . .”“It’s all right, Ann.” Louisa faced Silas, laughter still in her eyes. But when she saw his livid expression and reddened face, she sobered at once. “I’m sure Silas knows better than to blame you.”“We was just tryin’ to help.” Bending to pick up the carving, Ann held it out to Silas. “Honestly, Mr. Dumm—”Silas made a choking sound as he saw what Ann held in her hands. “Get out.” Snatching the carving from her, he tossed it across the room. “I said get out of here! Now!”

“She tries to move toward him, but the path is covered with gravel, which slows her down. Then he turns his head and sees her. He puts down his brush and comes closer, and the closer he comes, the closer he comes, the happier she is she didn't put on mascara, she doesn't want to cry but she can't help it, she can hardly see him through the welling tears. She quickly wipes her eyes. She looks at him. He's standing two steps away. She could stretch out her hand, he'd come even closer, she could touch him. He's the same, thinner, the most beautiful man in the world, with the eyes Germain Pire described to her, a very pale blue, almost gray, quiet and gentle, with something struggling in their depths, a child, a soul of agony. His voice hasn't changed.The first thing she hears him say--it's terrible--he asks her, "You can't walk?" She shakes her head. He sighs, goes back to his painting. She pushes the wheels, moves toward the shed. He looks over at her again, he smiles. "You want to see what I'm doing?" She nods her head. "I'll show you in a little bit," he says. "But not right now, it's not finished."So while she waits, she sits up straight in her scooter, she crosses her hands in her lap, she looks at him. Yes, she looks at him, she looks at him, life is long and can still carry a great deal more on its back.She looks at him.”