Линкольн Чайлд: City of Endless Night

An uncomfortable silence fell over them. Pendergast seemed uncharacteristically hesitant, and then he abruptly spoke.

“Constance, there’s no easy or graceful way for me to put into words what I have to say. So I’ll phrase it as simply as I can. You must come back with me.”

This announcement was even more of a surprise than his arrival. Constance remained silent.

“You have to come home.”

“But my son—”

“His place is here, with the monks, as the rinpoche. You’ve just said he’s filling that role admirably. But you’re not a monk. Your place is in the world — in New York. You have to come home. ”

She took a deep breath. “It’s not quite so simple.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“There’s another matter to consider...” She faltered, at a loss for words. “What exactly will be — what does this mean for us?”

Quite suddenly, he took her hands in his. “I don’t know.”

“But why this decision of yours? What happened?”

“I’ll spare you the details,” he said. “But there was a night, not so long ago, when I knew, with utter certainty, that I was about to die. I knew , Constance. And in that moment — that last extremity — it was you who suddenly came into my mind. Later, when the crisis had passed and I realized I would live after all, I had time to reflect on that moment. It was then I realized that, quite simply, life without you is not worth living. I need you to be with me. In what way or relationship, precisely, as ward, friend, or... I don’t know... remains to be worked out. I... I ask for your patience in that. But regardless, one fact remains. I cannot live without you.”

As he’d spoken, Constance had stared closely at his face. There was an intensity in his expression, a look in the glittering ice-silver eyes, that she had not seen before.

He grasped her hands more firmly. “Please come home.”

For a long moment Constance remained silent, holding his eyes with her own. And then — almost imperceptibly — she nodded.