“Maybe we could swing a scholarship to Boston College for you, you know, with your violin and all. ” She took the blue box from her hoodie and held it towards him. “I don’t think our engagement can go on,” she plunged, and felt exactly that loss of breath that comes with a dive into icy water. “And what will Mr. One doesn’t realize that even the sort of civilization one has at Morningside Park is held together with difficulty. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. There is no other way. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath.
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