” “It gives in a nutshell the miracle of art and the imagination. Crouching down, Gerald waited, hands at the ready. “He was no help to the police, just babbled on about how he was going to marry your Mom and how he was in love with her, that they he had lost his true love, Michelle insisted on repeating that to me, ‘He lost his true love. He leaned towards her, laid his hand tenderly upon hers. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. . John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it.
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