“I love you,” he said. Self-reproach clouded Ellwood’s lovely face. “Henry, I…you know that I…I…” Gaunt knew Ellwood would probably never love him again. He had accepted it long ago. “It’s fine, Elly,” he said. “I understand.” Ellwood grimaced and shook his head, clearly frustrated. “No, Henry, I,” he said, “I—‘I cannot heave my heart into my mouth.’ ” Gaunt stared at him. Ellwood looked just as shocked as he was. “Shakespeare,” said Ellwood. “King Lear.” Gaunt put his arm around Ellwood’s shoulders and drew him close, his chest swelling greedily with joy, with hope. He kissed the top of
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