Kenny with a shudder moved it to a distant corner.

He could not bear the memory of that last night when he had barred the old man out from his joyous mood of sparkle, telling Samhain tales of the fairies and the dead.
After all, had he meant always to be cruel, that keen-eyed old man with his keener wits?
What conflict of spirit and body had lain behind his fretful fits of temper?
Kenny turned, blinking, from the wheelchair, and his glance, blurred a little, found the old man's glasses on the mantel.

The shabby case, left behind while Adam faced the great adventure, was oddly pitiful.
Kenny cleared his throat.

He had his moment of rebellion then at the inevitability of death and doom.

It behooved all of us, he remembered with set lips, to be kind and mend quarrels while the sap of life ran in our veins, strong and full.
The sight of the key upon the table sent his thoughts flying off at a tangent.