quot;I just o ;

    quot;Papa Ferris is dead?quot;

    quot;Yes, at Jo;

    quot;Oe people.quot;

    ttle boy moved from be o ;;

    Ferris o apprestretced silk o Elizabeths calm voice.

    quot;Mr. Ferris fat kno;

    quot;But w;

    Bailey and Elizabetrapped look. It ime ago,quot; ;your motime ago.quot;

    quot;Mr. Ferris?quot;

    ttle boy stared at Ferris, amazed and unbelieving. And Ferris eyes, as urned too. as it indeed true t at one time ranger, Elizabettle Butterduck during nig togets and -- finally -- endured in tude truction of the fabric of married love.

    Bailey said to t;Its somebodys supper-time. Come on no;

    quot;But Daddy! Mama and Mr. Ferris -- I --quot;

    Billys everlasting eyes -- perplexed and ility -- reminded Ferris of t tle face and knobby knees w.

    quot;Quick marc; Bailey gently turned Billy to;Say good nig;

    quot;Good nig; fully, quot;I t I aying up for t;

    quot;You can come in after; Elizabet;Run along no;

    Ferris and Elizabet of tuation descended on t moments of silence. Ferris asked permission to pour  tail sable at  ticed the rack.

    quot;Do you still play as beautifully as you used to?quot;

    quot;I still enjoy it.quot;

    quot;Please play, Elizabet;

    Elizabetely. o perform wies; she added readiness of relief.

    S as a prism in a morning room. t voice of t pure and solitary, ed intermingling ed ed frame, tiple music, al and serene, floy. tless ingenuities -- no, again submerged, it y of a single t does not fear surrender to toy of terial gat enricence on t first motif and atement ted he hall.

    quot;Daddy, ; A door was closed.

    t  in . No spoke to ime, anot o play. te air summoned a  in t of past longings, conflicts, ambivalent desires. Strange t talyst for tumultuous anarche maid.

    quot;Miz Bailey, dinner is out on table no;

    Even after Ferris ed at table betill overcast tle drunk.

    quot;Limprovisation de la vie ; ;t makes you so aion of ence as a song unfinis;

    quot;Address book?quot; repeated Bailey. topped, noncommittal and polite.

    quot;Youre still t; Elizabetrace of tenderness.

    It  evening, and tes. t potatoes. During t alive a conversation  t Ferris o speak of Jeannine.

    quot;I first kne autumn -- about time of taly. S in Rome. I expect ;

    true, inevitable, t Ferris did not at first acknoo  year spoken of marriage. And indeed, sill married -- to a e Russian moneyced for five years. But it oo late to correct t;to knoulations, Jo;

    ried to make amends rut;tumn is so beautiful. Balmy and blossoming.quot; ;Jeannine tle boy of six. A curious trilingual little felloo tuileries sometimes.quot;

    A lie again. aken to ts t bared  in te pond and ridden ted to go in to t s t time, for Ferris  at tel. o ternoon. Only once aken Valentin to tuileries.

    tir. t in a ed cake ered in t clotill did not understand.

    quot;; Elizabet;Blo t;

    Ferris recognized e. t lingeringly and ty-eigemples darkened and pulsed visibly.

    quot;Its time you started for ter.quot;

    Ferris te good-byes. to the door.

    A reets  turnal city e attentiveness of departure and pertime and the coming journey.

    t day y from t, toylike, precise. t belantic and tant European s of to of Elizabetle envy and inexplicable regret.  t ed tones,  remained; tself evaded ead t voice of t Elizabet came to ed mockingly and in a minor key. Suspended above ties of transience and solitude no longer troubled  of y. During the shore of France.

    At midnigaxi crossing Paris. It s of t bistros gleamed on t pavements. As aler a transocean fliginents oo sudden. Ne morning, t Paris. Ferris glimpsed ties, of transitory loves; and time, ter glissando of time always.

    quot;Vite! Vite!quot; error. quot;Dépêc;

    Valentin opened to tle boy gro, tarily.

    quot;Jattends Maman.quot;

    Jeannine urned to a drating  t es and rip balloon.

    quot;e o tuileries.quot;

    to  Elizabeto , ttisoned -- time bringing only recognition and sudden joy.

    quot;Monsieur Jean,quot; t;did you see ;

    Confused, Ferris t only of anot;See ;

    quot;Your dead papa in Georgia.quot; t;as ;

    Ferris spoke ;e en to tuileries. Ride to t s;

    quot;Monsieur Jean,quot; Valentin said. quot;t;

    Again, terror t of ed years and deatin, responsive and confident, still nestled in ouc c te eyelasion ion as protean as e time.