” He followed up a line of thought. She fell asleep instantaneously, fatigued from weeks of exhaustion. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. She imagined herself on a barren 41 plain, post-Apocalypse, convulsing, waiting to die with the cockroach. I thought it was a mirror at the first, for it was so very like myself. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated.
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