Tanya dared to ask her something then that she had wondered for the past year, and she suspected was the root of the problem. “Does he blame you?” It was barely more than a whisper, but even in the crowded restaurant Mary Stuart heard her.

“Probably,” she sighed. “I suppose we both blame ourselves for not seeing what was happening. But I know in the beginning he felt that I should have seen it coming. I should have been able to foresee disaster before it struck us. Bill bestows magical qualities on me, when it suits him. In any case, I suppose I blame myself too. It doesn't change anything. The delusion is that you can turn the clock back, and stop it from happening, if you assign the blame to the right person. But it doesn't work that way. It doesn't matter. It's over.” Tears filled her eyes and she looked away, and Tanya was instantly sorry she had brought up the subject.

“I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said anything…” What was the point now? Tanya was silently berating herself for being so stupid, as Mary Stuart dabbed at her eyes, and looked reassuringly at Tanya.

“It's all right, Tan. It doesn't matter. It hurts all the time anyway. Like a severed limb, it never stops, sometimes it's sharper than others, sometimes it's really unbearable, sometimes you can live with it, but it never stops aching. You didn't make it hurt. It's with me every moment.”

“You can't live like that forever,” Tanya said, looking devastated for her. It was clearly the worst thing that had happened to any of them, and there was nothing she could do about it.

“Apparently you can live like that forever,” Mary Stuart answered her desperately. “People do it all the time, they live with constant pain of all kinds, arthritis, rheumatism, indigestion, cancer, and then there's this, the destruction of the heart, the death of hope, the loss of everything you ever cared about, it's a challenge to the soul,” she said, looking agonized, but so strong that Tanya almost couldn't bear it.