“You’ve grown back the bits you used up,” she said. “Why? Why do that?” “A body to move in,” Louise said, with Edward’s larynx and her tongue, the new voice resonant with a fluting peak, one that she wanted to speak in for hours once Isabel Pallant was gone, when she and Edward could speak to each other aloud or quietly for hours, days, nights, while they were awake, while they slept. Their eyes began to mist, and Edward’s lips smiled, as Louise’s lips within them tried to pull them back straight an instant too late.
