I had intended to seek out Burrich and see if the Fool had found him yet. Instead I encountered Molly coming down his steep stairs just as I had begun to climb them. She looked down at the astounded look on my face and laughed. But it was a short laugh, and it never reached her eyes.
“Why did you go to see Burrich?” I demanded, and instantly realized how rude my question was. I had feared she had gone seeking help.
“He is my friend,” she said succinctly. She started to push past me. Without thinking, I stood firm. “Let me past!” she hissed savagely.
Instead I put my arms around her. “Molly; Molly, please,” I said hoarsely as she pushed at me without heart. “Let us find a place to talk, if only for a moment. I cannot bear to have you look at me that way, when I swear I have done you no wrong. You act as if I have cast you off, but you are in my heart always. If I cannot be with you, it is not because I do not wish to.”
She stopped struggling suddenly. ,
“Please?” I begged her.
She glanced about the dim barn. “We will stand and we will talk. Briefly. Right here.”
“Why are you so angry with me?”
She nearly answered me. I saw her bite back words, then turn suddenly cold. “Why do you think that what I feel about you is the centermost pillar of my life?” she retorted. “Why do you think I have no other concerns but you?”
I gaped at her. “Perhaps because it is how I feel about you,” I said gravely.
“It is not.” She was exasperated, correcting me the way she would correct a child who insisted the sky was green.