‘But can’t you,’ she said logically, ‘just give yourself up?’ He had answers as plain and understandable as her questions. He said, ‘There’s the pain. To choose pain like that – it’s not possible. And it’s my duty not to be caught. You see, my bishop is no longer here.’ Curious pedantries moved him. ‘This is my parish.’ He found a tortilla and began to eat ravenously. She said solemnly, ‘It’s a problem.’ She could hear a gurgle as he drank out of the bottle. He said, ‘I try to remember how happy I was once.’ A firefly lit his face like a torch and then went out – a tramp’s face: what could
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