If he decided to watch television upstairs with his mother, she would probably retire before he did, but she was a light sleeper. She fought him at first, screaming at him, but he did not relent. He kept at it even on those nights when the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight down with stones everything on his table. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. I saw him ride away with that other fellow. "Despatch him!" roared Jonathan. She changed into a halter top and a pair of tight jeans herself, and let Lucy brush her long, glossy hair as they talked about mascara, schoolwork, and boys. She met his eye for a moment in curious surprise.
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