My Father, My Son [antikvár]

MY FATHER, MY SON He realized with a start that she still didn't understand the finality of this. Curbing the pang of unease, he kissed her to expunge somé of his guilt. Tm not sure . . . but you know FII always be with you in thought.' He spent a moment wondering why God had taken all the hundreds of Boer children with measles, scarlet fever, dysentery and chosen to let this little Kaffir flourish. It seemed wrong somehow, when he'd been a mistake in the first place. Baby fingers worked at his tunic buttons. The woman raised her head. 'We must say goodbye now?' 'There's no rush,' he soothed. 'We'll have one more night.' 'I shall wait for you.' Detaching the child's hand from the buttons, she pulled away, stared him full in his eyes for long seconds . . . then she was gone.