“Where is she?” he asked.
“Who?”
“She....”
“Who—?”
“She ... who was here....”
“Nobody was here, Freder....”
The boy’s eyes glazed.
“What did you say—?” he stammered.
“There has not been a soul here, Freder, but you and I.”
Freder twisted his head around stiffly. He tugged the shirt from his throat. He looked into his father’s eyes as though looking into well-shafts.