This night, collapsed in his favorite armchair with her head on his shoulder, he reached out to touch the knapsack lightly with one finger.

"Scary Carey says you found a nice box for the nice box."

Digging sharp knees into his soft thigh, she reached over and unzipped. Pulling out a velvet sack, purple as dark prose, she undid the drawstrings and, soft eyed, she handed it to him.

"It’s lovely. Very lovely. We are so lucky to have Carol Ann."

"And Nunco Stashu too."

"And Nuncle Stosh too. Isn’t it heavy to carry around?”