“I can’t believe you remember it all,” he says as a new singer climbs the steps. “It’s like living with déjà vu,” she says, “only you know exactly where you’ve seen or heard or felt a thing before. You know every time, and place, and they sit stacked on top of each other like pages in a very long and complicated book.” Henry shakes his head. “I would have lost my mind.” “Oh, I did,” she says blithely. “But when you live long enough, even madness ends.”
