Hard to believe it had been a whole year; the party seemed just yesterday and yet, so long ago; she was new person since then; well, not so very different; only in some ways, of course; she was less dependant than she had been, more easy with only herself to consult; when she woke in the morning the day didn't loom quite so dangerously. She did miss him, despite all the space he had given her, much more than she imagined possible; oh, she had cried at first, of course, the initial shock was so jarring and it was all so unexpected. .

             He was fine the night before at the party, but the next day he declared himself indisposed; how was she to know it was something serious? Sensible Richard, always so careful of his health, always so moderate in all his habits; so dull and pleasant; who would dream it could happen? Every year there were heart attacks, of course, like Mrs. Chandler down the block when Clarissa was a child-left with two children to raise alone, and her husband only 38. All the women in the neighborhood had nagged for more life insurance, she remembered that.

             At first, she wanted not to think about what had happened; the whole thing told over and over again hadn't helped at all; how she had gone for a long walk downtown just to mull over the events of the day before, the party and Peter; oh, Peter-it was so long ago! She looked in all the windows of the shops and stopped in the tea room for a sip of strong tea and a biscuit. The tea room's owner told her about her daughter who was awarded a scholarship for college; then, Clarissa had hurried home because the air had turned suddenly heavy and close, the sky purple with low lying clouds, and she without her umbrella. The house had a strange air about it; something about the look as she approached that made her think-well, that somehow, something was up. The maid opened the door silently.