#383583 - Bridget asked if there had been cucumber. Pushing. §§§ The girls crouched listening at their parents’ door that next evening, so far only the mist of light from a dim lamp inside – wordlessly joking and speculating, eavesdropping for telltale talk and sounds: lengthy, low-spoken debate from within the bedroom, and then no talk and some small motions for awhile; then more agreeable speak and a moment of broader movement about: one of the stout straight-back chairs, missing from the dining room, dragged to the center of the floor, then nothing.
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