flaky hot crescent rolls from the Vienna Bakery, with curls of butter that Kate had made according to Charlotte's description of the way they had butter in Italy, the kind of cheese that Joe liked and that made her hold her nose, and the raspberry water ice she had ordered from Goff's to celebrate his return and Hope's. He had not eaten anything since lunch the day before, and he found he was half starved. The food and drink, the cool quiet, gave him strength again.
"I sent Effa home. I'll just pile the things up in the sink. She said to leave them. I'll be in in a minute."
But he followed her into the kitchen, as he used to when he was a little boy, back into the dining room, out into the kitchen.
"There go the lights on again. Don't you want to look at the paper?"
He took it, and sat down by the lamp. She got out her drawing board, her paint box and glass of water, and began to work, stealing glances at him, aching for him. His head was bent over the paper, but he hadn't turned a page in half an hour.
"I'm trying to design some scenery. Don't you ever feel like doing any more? You used to do such wonderful things"
"I'll try some, sometime," he said, not because he meant to, but to comfort her, so the air would not be heavy with the intense emotion of her suffering for him, so that he could be still.
