Better the devils you know than the one you don't.
~ Janet Mullany
I'm sorry. I behaved like a jerk.You did.Is that forgiveness?I'm not sure. I think it's an acknowledgment of imperfection. And an admission that I believe time is too short to hold a grudge.
Tell me about yourself.' A strange thing for a husband to ask a wife.
May we do it again? She sounds remarkably bright and cheerful. 'And I didn't bleed. My mother said I would experience great agony.''Half an hour.''I beg your pardon? Your mumbling.'Eyes closed, I attempt to enunciate a little more clearly. 'In half an hour or so. Probably. And your mother was misinformed.''What am I suppose to do in the meantime?''Oh. Read a Sermon. Embroider something
I regret it is not possible to marry by post.
This must be the most embarrassing moment in my life. I am glad I am too ill to appreciate it fully.
But I regret to inform you that you are probably not dying''As you will.' I take a swig from the bottle of brandy, my teeth chattering against it. I don't have the energy to argue; I must save my strength for my imminent demise.
I mumble my vows, Shad mutters his, and I wonder what would happen if I lunged for the door like a wild animal seeking its freedom. I could probably outrun his one-legged friend, but Shad has something of the greyhound about him.
I love her beyond reason.
