After the first year, even though I still dreaded the day’s approach, I began to find that there was something Jem simple had to do every November tenth, some training excercise or some search that would take us to the far end of the city in the cold, wet winter weather. And I would abuse him bitterly for it of course. Sometimes the damp chill made him ill, or he would forget hus drugs and become ill on the day, coughing blood and confined to be, and that would be a distraction too. And only after it happened three times-for I am very stupid, Cecy, and think only of myself-did I realize that of course he was doing it for me. He had noticed the date and was doing all the could to draw me from my melancholy.
November 10th, Heronstairs Day.