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frailer than I remembered, and slightly stooped. She was wearing a gray cardigan over a pale pink nightgown.
“Hello?” she said nervously. “Who’s there?
“Hello, Ruth.” I stepped into the light.
She recognized me and looked surprised. “Theo? What on earth—” Her eyes went from my face
to the clumsy, improvised bandage around my finger, with blood seeping through it. “Are you all right?”
“Not really. May I come in? I—I need to talk to you.”
Ruth didn’t hesitate, only looked concerned. She nodded. “Of course. Come in.” She undid the chain and opened the door.
I stepped inside.
