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Show 220 paintings from the walls-they may have been stacked in the John now for all he knew-but he very often, late at night, took the narrow side street that wound along the perimeter of the VA cemetery and drove slowly past the small house without looking at it. By concentrating on the sound of blood roaring in his ears he could even darken his peripheral vision on that side as he went past and not have to see if there were lights on or if Noel's Fiat was parked in front, with its distinctive crushed headlight. He was embarrassed to be hanging around the sites of his wretchedness this long, like an unhappy ghost, but he never acted in haste, and you didn't punish someone while there was still a chance they were sorry. |