"But our fathers and mothers would have us forget their suffering in the festival of coming home, wouldn't they, Lazarre?"
"Surely, Eagle."
"Then why are you looking at me with reproach?"
"I'm not."
"Perhaps you don't like my dress?"
I told her it was the first time I had ever noticed anything she wore, and I liked it.
"I used to wear my mother's clothes. Ernestine and I made them over. But this is new; for the new day, and the new life here."
"And the day," I reminded her, "is the first of September."
She laughed, and opened her left hand, showing me two squat keys so small that both had lain concealed under two of her finger tips.
"I am going to give you a key, sire."