I came to a stop, because the story had run out for the moment, and I prodded her so she would finally sit up. She did so reluctantly, and to my shock, my complete and utter shock, her eyes were full of tears. “My God, my God,” she said in a fascinated whisper. “He loves me.” “I don’t know if he does,” I said. “There was … I don’t know, Daisy.” “He does,” she said, her hand tightening into small fists. “He does, he does.”
