“I don’t know how you manage without the consolation of religion.”
“Yet I do,” I said, smiling, having no wish to offend her. Father thought highly of Aunt Lelia and said she could even make a virtue of religion, which was high praise from him.
“Very well, I will pray for you, darling,” she said, coming to kiss my cheek. “And for your poor mother’s soul, which is in heaven.” Sarah came in carrying the breakfast tray. “In the dining room,” I said, waving her back. I followed my aunt to the door and watched her join a stream of pedestrians at the corner, all elegantly dressed, greeting one another lightheartedly. None, I thought, would name the true cause for his high spirits and say what each one felt: “Others have died, but I am alive.” I went back into the dining room and took a piece of bread from the plate. I called for Sarah, who appeared in the doorway, her eyes cast down.
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