Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from Heritage
Yet for one week in those two years Malory and I were linked by the thread of a story he told me, sitting out under a clump of stone pines overlooking the village. It linked us, indeed, not for that week alone, but, though interruptedly and at long intervals, for many years out of our lives. Neither of us foresaw at the time the far-reaching sequel of his con fidences. He, when he told me the story, thought that he was telling me a completed thing, an incident revived infits entirety out of the past; I, when I later went to investi gate for myself, went with no thought of continuance; and finally, I, when I de parted, did so in the belief that the ulti mate word was spoken. Our error, I sup pose, arose from our delusion that in this affair, which we' considered peculiarly our own, we held in some measure the levers of control. Our conceit, I see it now, was ah surd. We were dealing with a force capricious, incalculable, surprising, a force that lurked at the roots of nature, baf?ing alike the onlooker and the subject whose vagaries it prompted.
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