They would never be alone together any more--not quite like this, Patrick sitting in his accustomed place, wearing his beloved old tweeds, with an immaculate tie and with his single eyeglass--about which she had so often chaffed him--dangling across his chest on its black ribbon.
Her mouth quivered.

"Stand up to it!".

.

.

The voice--Patrick's voice--seemed to sound in her ear.