"He's ours, Barbara!" she heard the little winged cherubs saying again and again, flying over her head. "He won't be Gail's, and he won't be yours! You'd better get used to it.

He belongs to us. You'd better get used to not having him!"

Yeah, Barbara thought, turning over on her stomach, her eyes wide awake for another long hour before the sun would rise.

The sun. Thinking of that finally got to her. She buried her face in her pillow and began sobbing.

After a while, she remembered... Back when she had been reading romantic novels like Ivanhoe, she had loved Ernest Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises. How she cried when she read how hopeless Lady Brett Ashley's love was for Jake Barnes, the handsome young man returned war casualty. Something physical about him had kept them apart. With her love for Paul Riordan, something spiritual would keep them apart.

She thought about the sun rising, and the sunshine that Paul always seemed to be bathed in. She turned her face to the wall and heard the angels tell her, softly but firmly and finally: The sun also rises... Yeah, and it sets, too!




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