hemwithmyheadpressedagainstherchest.Speckhadonearmaroundme,andiherhachedthecard.Whenshewokeup,sheblinkedopenheremeraldeyestowel.HerfirstrequestwasthatIreadthemessageihecard:ButifthewhileIthinkonthee,dearfriend,

    Alllossesarerestoredandsorrowsend.

    Shakespeare,So30

    Therewasnonature,noaddressee,andwhatevernameshadbeeheenvelopehadbeensmudgedintooblivionbythewetsnow.

    "Whatdoyouthinkitmeans?"

    "Idontknow,"Itoldher."WhoisShakespeare?"Thenameseemedvaguelyfamiliar.

    "Hisfriendmakesallhistroublesend,ifhebutthinksabouthim...orher."

    Thesunroseabovethetreetops,warmingourpeacefulcamp.Theauralsignsofmeltingbegan:snowsloughingofffirs,icecrystalsbreakingapart,thethawanddripoficicles.Iwaobealohthecard,andmypencilburnedlikeanemberinmypocket.

    "Whatareyougoingtowrite?"

    "Iwanttomakeadar,butIdonotknowhow.Doyouknowwhatdayistoday?"

    "Onedayislikeanother."

    "Arentyoucuriousaboutwhatdayitistoday?"

    Speckwriggledintohercoat,biddiodothesame.Sheledmethroughtheclearingtothehighestpoihecamp,aridgethatranalohwesternedge,adifficultpassageoverasteepslopeoflooseshale.Mylegsachedwhenwereachedthesummit,andIwasoutofbreath.She,oherhand,tappedherfootandtoldmetobequietandlisten.Wewerestillandwaited.Otherthahawingmountains,itwassilent.

    "WhatamIsupposedtohear?"

    "trate,"shesaid.

    Itried,butsavefortheoccasionallaughofanuthatdt