“And yet I trust you.” She says it like an accusation. “It’s stupid, and yet, I do.”
I can’t tell if this is another knife she’s twisting into me, but the effect is uncertain. “Why dosomething you know is unwise?” I ask her.
I can feel her eyes on me. I don’t meet them. “You’ve never done anything that you knew was a badidea?” she asks me.
I open my mouth to answer, thinking of Osip, then think better of it. I walk to the door. “It’s time wegot going. The justice of the peace won’t wait.”
This time, there’s no mistaking the apathy of her tone. “For you, I’m sure she would.”
The wedding ceremony is quick, small, somber. Ludmil has something on his mind, clearly, with theway he shifts his weight from one shiny-shoed foot to the other. Joy is all bland-smiled business,
