Catherine's heart had become a tank engine, making beats resembling artillery shots with a machine-gun speed. Sharply she had straightened her stiff, ...ruelly bent legs (that immediately reacted with a new powerful wave of dull ache) and, her leg iron wildly clanging, ran (if one still could call it a run) towards the door. Having somehow managed to cope with the door lock, she pushed the door slightly open, thus forming a narrow gap between it and the jamb, and then stepped back, frozen in a. I then heard a soft voice saying: “Good morning, young man, how are you this beautiful day?” Now, I am 45 years old Rarely does anyone call me “young man”. I turned and saw her looking at my face and smiling. She had graying hair, and perhaps was a little older than me. I smiled and said: “I’m happy to meet you ma’am ”.She laughed, and said: “Would you like company or would you prefer to be left alone?” I replied: “Pleasant company in these beautiful woods is always appreciated”.We. More

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