As we went upstairs, Topaz slipped her arm through mine. “Could you hear?” she whispered. “Is he really enjoying himself? Or was he just putting it on?” I told her I thought it was genuine. “It’s wonderful to see him like that” — but her voice sounded wistful. It is one of her theories that a woman must never be jealous, never try to hold a man against his will; but I could tell that she hadn’t enjoyed seeing someone else bring father to life.
