Fritz, still at his bone, sat quietly gnawing at Wilkie’s feet. Lillie’s eyes looked heavy. The chill of the spring night now warded off, Berdie found that she, as well, was being courted by the sandman despite the warming tea and the energy it offered. “I should think, after we finish our tea, all can go home and get some sleep.” Hugh was not inattentive. “Most conversations stand best in the fair light of day.” “If you please, Vicar,” Wilkie asked politely. “I would like to clear one more matter for your wife. And the truth of it, for me as well. I’ll be done with the thing as quickly as the teacup’s empty.” “Of course, Mr. Gordon, as long as you’re not under duress.” Hugh answered with an eye on Berdie. Berdie returned the ogle. “No, no.” Wilkie sighed. He took a slurp of tea and began his soul baring. “I’m going to be needing some guidance, Vicar. But we can talk about that, as you say, in the light of day. What I’m addressing now is the truth of our son, George.”
