"I imagine you will."
Sylvia said:
"Oh dear!"
The priest said:
"I'd be willing to see your husband's telegram. It makes a difference to see the words on paper."
Sylvia rose effortlessly.
"I don't see why you shouldn't," she said. "It will give you no pleasure." She drifted towards the door.
"If it would give me pleasure," the priest said, "you would not show it me."
"I would not," she said.
A silhouette in the doorway, she halted, drooping, and looked over her shoulder.