erity.

    In t folloer seemed to drao o absent o understand   earlier I o see c ty of knohe surface.

    And then she emerged.

    ‘Do you know why my books are so successful?“

    ‘For a great many reasons, I believe.“

    ‘Possibly. Largely it is because t order. Of course all stories  is  order t matters. t is why people like my books.“

    Sed o ansion. I am going to tell you somet myself, s a public record. It is t important t o me. But I did not expect to find myself telling it to you so soon. I so break one of my rules to do it. I so tell you tory before I tell you the beginning.”

    ‘tory?  be, if it arted ing? “

    ‘Quite simply because my story—my oory—ended before my ing began. Storytelling ime since everything finished.“

    I ed, and sh like a chess player who finds his key piece cornered.

    ‘I  tell you. But I  I? t’s unavoidable. t beg t to make a t er, but to grant it because it is in tory. You asked me to tell you trut t, because of t let me first ask you someturn.“

    ‘?“

    ‘After t in tory. From tomorroell you my story, beginning at tinuing  ts proper place. No eating. No looking aions. No sneaky glances at t page.

    Did s to place conditions on our deal, ed it? Not really. Still, I nodded.

    ‘I agree.“

    S quite look at me as she spoke.

    ‘I lived at Angelfield.“

    rembled over tc ure.

    ‘I een.“

    ilted; fluency deserted her.

    ‘there was a fire.“

    t ones.

    ‘I