"I was never in love with him. It was just—"
"Never mind, don't say it," I said. "It's over and done with."
I stopped, remembering. Her eyes grew wide and startled, and I could see that she was remembering too.
"What happened?" I asked. "Did they catch that vicious rat?"
She brushed back her hair, the sunlight suddenly harsh on her face. "He fell into the canal. The bullets brought him down, and he collapsed on the bank."
Her hand tightened on my wrist. "Bill told me. He tried to swim, but the current carried him under. He went down and never came up."
"I'm glad," I said. "Did anyone in the camp ever see him before?"
Molly shook her head. "Bill said he was a drifter—a dangerous maniac who must have been crazed by the sun."
"I see," I said.
I reached out and drew her into my arms again, and we rested for a moment stretched out side by side on the sand.