Nora said nothing. He opened his eyes slowly. Nora was gone. Had she been there at all?
He blinked around at the fuzzy room, and dissolved the shifting shadows that sometimes emerged as old friendly faces, grinning at him. He found Martha.
"You went to sleep," said Martha. "She had to go. Kennie called. He'll be over later, if you're not too tired."
"I'm not tired. I'm all head. There's nothing much to get tired."
"I love you, Old Donegal."
"Hold my hand again."
"I'm holding it, old man."
"Then hold me where I can feel it."
She slid a thin arm under his neck, and bent over his face to kiss him. She was crying a little, and he was glad she could do it now without fleeing the room.
"Can I talk about dying now?" he wondered aloud.