³⁵ The papers of Kit
We were both sitting in the garden, along the tomb-inlaid walls. The Sunday clouds had just lifted and we both had the same thought: “might as well strike up a chat..."
He told me his name was Marlowe.
— Right.
Only much later did it occur to me that it must’ve been an alias.
We started walking, and I noticed that his stride was lean and proud.
