Tag: william_trevor

He sensed his own pity, not knowing why it was there.
Another winter passed, another spring, and most of summer.
What are you thinking?
He envied himself as he had been.
He would have listened and understood.
He had looks and, she imagined, charm.
Bits of remembered conversation were somehow lost.
It had no past.
I shall make something of it.
She had married him for his money.
There was a balance struck: it was enough.
Nothing had altered.
How could it be the same?
After all, there was the memory of a happiness.
She had known the passion of love.
He smiled a little, as if the silence pleased him.