Now go to your own bed or I will have to sleep on the couch.”“NO. I called the judge as he said I may. I talked to him. He is afraid for you. Dean... I talk to him, but he pretends he doesn’t hear me. He wants to be loyal to you, but he is afraid for you too.”“Damn it, I do not want to talk about this.” I could feel my teeth grinding and my fingernails biting into the palms of my hands. My heart was beating and I was feeling like I did that day, the day in school when I dismantled the coach’s. Then I told her I was going to ‘midnight mass’ at nine o’clock that evening.“Why so early?” she asked with a worried frown.“No,” I told her, laughing, “Back in the old days there was a Eucharist actually at midnight, but now it’s at nine, but it’s still called ‘midnight mass’.”“Oh,” she looked relieved, and I laughed at her expression at which she pouted prettily.“Can I come?” she asked.Of course she could, and we did, going as we were, though wrapped in overcoats against the cold, returning. More

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