“I have no right to burden you with my sins. I never should have…”

“You never should have what?” she prodded when he hesitated.

He didn’t reply, but she was afraid she already knew. “You didn’t invite me out just because you wanted the pleasure of my company, did you?”

“You are very pleasant company, Sarah,” he insisted. “I consider myself extremely fortunate to have met such a charming lady as yourself, and – ”

“Stop that nonsense,” she snapped. “I know exactly what I am, and charming isn’t exactly the word I would use to describe myself. Something else drew you to me, and if you don’t tell me what it is, I shall never speak to you again.”

“How heartless you are, Mrs. Brandt,” he tried in a feeble attempt at levity.

“I have many other undesirable qualities, too, and if you wish to see them, then by all means continue lying to me.”

“I’ve never lied to you,” he protested.

“There are lies of omission,” she reminded him sternly.

“You are a hard woman,” he said. “I wonder if even a policeman could tame you.”

“Richard,” she warned.

“All right.” He lifted his white-gloved hand in mock surrender. “I was hoping that… that you could help me understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Hazel. My wife. She… Oh, God.” His voice broke, and Sarah was instantly contrite.

“I’m sorry, Richard! I can be so stupid sometimes. I warned you that I have bad qualities. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to – ”

“No, stop,” he said, clearing the emotion out of his voice. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. Just like it’s my fault that Hazel is dead.”

Sarah wasn’t sure she’d understood him. “Do you feel responsible for your wife’s death?”

“Of course I do.”

Now Sarah understood. “We always feel responsible when a loved one dies,” she assured him. “We blame ourselves for not loving them enough when they were with us, and we feel guilty for being the one still alive and – ”