getting tight is probably the best thing he could do. I know if I lost you, Jean"
I stopped. I didn't like to think of it. Jean nodded. "See what you can do for him, anyway. Losing Sandra that way was—pretty terrible."
"What way?" I asked. "I've been away, remember. I read something about it, but"
"She just died," Jean said. "Pernicious anemia, they said. But Hess told me the doctor really didn't know what it was. She just seemed to grow weaker and weaker until—she passed away."
I nodded, gave Jean a hasty kiss, and went back into the house. I had just seen Hess Deming walk past, a glass in his hand.
He turned as I tapped his shoulder. "Oh, Mart," he said, his voice just a bit fuzzy. He could hold his liquor, but I could tell by his bloodshot eyes that he was almost at the end of his rope. He was a handsome devil, all right, well-built strong-featured, with level gray eyes and a broad mouth that was usually smiling. It wasn't smiling now. It was
"For a brief while we walked the earth together, neither alive nor dead."
