She licked her finger and thumb and started snuffing out candles, each one dying with a little fizz and a curl of smoke. “So have I.” The room gradually grew dimmer, gradually felt hotter, in spite of the clammy fabric clinging to her, till there was only the gleam on the gold thread in the curtains, on the silverware and the glassware, at the corners of Orso’s smiling eyes.
