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If
he
were
alive
tonight
,
what
would
he
say
?
"
You
’
re
saving
cocoons
.
"
That
’
s
what
he
’
d
say
.
"
Corsets
,
in
a
way
,
you
can
never
fit
again
.
So
why
save
them
?
You
can
’
t
really
prove
you
were
ever
young
.
Pictures
?
No
,
they
lie
.
You
’
re
not
the
picture
.
"
"
Affidavits
?
"
"
No
,
my
dear
,
you
’
re
not
the
dates
,
or
the
ink
,
or
the
paper
.
You
’
re
not
these
trunks
of
junk
and
dust
.
You
’
re
only
you
,
here
,
now
—
the
present
you
.
"
Mrs
.
Bentley
nodded
at
the
memory
,
breathing
easier
.
"
Yes
,
I
see
.
I
see
.
"
The
gold
-
feruled
cane
lay
silently
on
the
moonlit
rug
.
"
In
the
morning
,
"
she
said
to
it
,
"
I
will
do
something
final
about
this
,
and
settle
down
to
being
only
me
,
and
nobody
else
from
any
other
year
.
Yes
,
that
’
s
what
I
’
ll
do
.
"
She
slept
.
.
.
The
morning
was
bright
and
green
,
and
there
at
her
door
,
bumping
softly
on
the
screen
,
were
the
two
girls
.
"
Got
any
more
to
give
us
,
Mrs
.
Bentley
?
More
of
the
little
girl
’
s
things
?
"
