" "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. \" Michelle was becoming upset, and her voice took on a tone of sarcasm. ” “You will let us hear from you—let us know where you are, very soon?” Annabel called out from the step. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing.
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