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Show 219 in the month we had spent with each other, and how isolated we had become, as a couple, from the people we worked with. Things besides the weather had been changing and I hadn't been noticing. "I'm not sure I understand," I said. "They think we are lovers," she whispered. I stared at her: was I supposed to laugh? I studied her face and waited, expecting a smile to break there, but saw instead that they were half right. "Tell them the truth," I said. "I have." "And?" "They prefer the lies." I looked over at them, all in a tight little group except for Moshe, and I saw that they were talking about us; relating the last month to Chaim, explaining the shadowy betrayal of race. "Then I'll tell them," I said. "No, please." "Why not?" "Because it doesn't matter." The image of her father flickered before me from across the table; and from across the room Chaim looked at us, his face clearly speaking the sentiment the others had been dressing in silence for a month: pity for Talma, disgust for me. I stood up, turned away from them all. I went outside, sat on the concrete steps where I looked out over the bulldozed terrain, up toward the Israeli soldiers who stood on top of the Arab |