Her unbound hair formed a
loop of pale gold upon the shoulder of the nightdress, and she looked
years younger than either could remember seeing her.
"Is everything all right?" she asked, as if this were not her home,
but theirs. "If my son will give a doting mother one last embrace, I
will leave the two of you in peace. I fancy I'll sleep in Mary's room
tonight, and give up my chambers to you."
"Truly, Anne? Would it be all right?"
"Listen to me, Mary. God married the two of you long ago. And in this
moment I'm so happy, so grateful....." She faltered, and her eyes
glistened. "My son is given back to me, whom I thought to be dead. Do
you think I can't share him, this one night, with the woman he loves,
and the girl I raised up from a child? Please, Michael, before I make
a fool of myself. Kiss me, then send me off to bed."
He rose, but not more quickly than she. Mary embraced her first, like
a schoolgirl, then stood aside as mother and son said their
affectionate good-night.
"In the morning hard choices await us," said the woman, addressing
them both.
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