"He held my hand. "He's done more for me," he assured me. "And he'sokay. Any day now, he'll turn up. I'm sure of it." I smiled wanly upat him, an... he smiled confidently back. His eyes were worried, though,as if he didn't believe his own words."I need to finish," he said, patting my hand before releasing it. Hewalked off to the mower and pushed it out of the yard. I cleaned upthe tray and took it inside.The rest of the summer flowed gently by. Every other week, John wouldmow the lawn. . He recalled how he had run across the platform, hurrying to catch the train, even though there would be another one fifteen minutes later. It was just that he had been so eager to get out of the city and go back home to his loving wife Margaret and the school in their village where the children were still well-behaved. After hearing so many horror stories from colleagues at the convention he had felt like the luckiest man alive to be working in a small village where, unlike in the cities,. More

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