"As if we no longer understood each other—my fault, I think."
"It is not. It is not even true." Reuben still held the bridle, his face stiff and white and smiling. "No cause for trouble about me. I am one of the fortunate, didn't you know?"
"I don't understand."
"I own a shield. I walk in the woods. I read the Anatomy of Vesalius, and the books you bought for me. And I told you, Ben—they do not fade."
"Ay, there's that. Still, if I live to be a thousand I don't suppose I'll ever understand you."
"Must you, Ben?"
"I try."
"I have never understood another, and yet I think about them as much as you do."
"But—oh, I don't know how to say it—I don't think I meant that kind of understanding. There's more than one kind...."
"Ben, you'd best hurry a little if you're to have any time with Uncle John at the office."