Michael Malone - Weebly

stared at for hours, to reread it again and again until the
words came into focus.
In bed, Winslow Abernathy did not see the words
on his page either. That carried on such fragile wings,
Judith Haig had passed over death was also the subject
of his thoughts. That and planning how to tell her
tomorrow that she didn't need to share with him the
literal facts of what had really happened at John Haig's
house beside the highway. Winslow would say to her
that the gift lay in her desire to tell him. He would say
that he with fear and happiness accepted that gift. But
he would explain that he had taken vows to the
principle of the law, and that if the words were spoken
to say that Maynard Henry had violated the law, then
Winslow would have to act on those words. If the
words were not spoken, he could not, of course, hear
them. Winslow smiled at this legalistic threading of his
moral maze; the technique was one learned from
reading Thomas More. Hand resting on the book that
moved gently on his thin chest, Winslow, falling down
into sleep, smiled too at the fact that he knew just what
he felt. The technique, he acknowledged, was one he