The barrel of the gun deep in his belly, the fire was half as loud as Jane expected. Nathan slumped against her breasts. His eyes were glassy. Blood spurted from his broken mouth. He whispered the final line. “Cool as from underground springs and pure enough to drink.”
Jane rolled Nathan’s body from the wall. It made a pathetic splash, and disappeared from sight in the still remaining darkness. She drew Nathan’s coat around her. Libraries and tea and home. ” “Pure enough to drink,” Jane whispered, and she watched the final wisps of mist appear across the river.