As she got to know him better, she got a strong impression of habits that would reveal themselves more fully with time. “His ways,” her mother would say. Neil’s ways were to press the door closed behind him until it clicked and then press a moment longer to be sure; to immediately look around with an eye out for what needed to be tidied; to lick his thumb and rub a spot on the mudroom wainscoting that only he could see; to carefully place his briefcase on the end of the bench and then look to see where Jess placed hers. These small things, she knew, were the end of a vein that ran strong and
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