Can’t you think about him, and forget the sin?” For the record, I don’t agree - I’m just transcribing.) and soon you will be a widow again. I’m not a real husband, (Sorry to my asexual readers hearing that marriages without sex are not real.
Though I was terribly sorry you had such a difficult time giving birth to your last son, maybe it was a blessing in disguise. It wouldn’t be evil! You are now unable to have more children. (I actually remembered this detail from the Wikipedia summary too and was looking forward to hearing Paul encourage her to commit incest, but…) Oh, apparently what Paul has told her is that he wants her to run off with Chris before it’s too late (before Jory gets old enough to remember that Chris is supposed to be his uncle, not his stepfather.) But she lets us get this through implication, not Paul’s actual words. Paul tells her that she’s been a slave to him these last three years, whether she acknowledges it or not. Cathy says that it’s all her fault, that if she’d married him years ago instead of Julian, she could have kept him from working so hard and therefore kept him well. Paul says something to her that she can’t believe, but that Cathy also doesn’t tell her readers about yet. He’s almost completely bedridden, and I don’t think their marriage has ever been consummated.
In the time jump, little Bart is walking and little Jory is almost seven, so that would make this about three years later.īut apparently, Paul has never quite recovered from that heart attack he had three years ago. In the space between the penultimate chapter and the last, Cathy has married Paul (yay! only man in the book that’s actually supportive of her at this point) and given birth to Bart’s son, whom they have named “Bart Sheffield” since a) Bart is dead anyway and b) she was married to Paul when the birth took place. Feel like continuing on (probably cause still tipsy.) I will schedule it for Sunday, but I’m not editing it, so it’s just like I’m reading it live like I usually do! Part Five, Chapter 7: Reaping the Harvestįor those of you that read Wednesday’s post: This is still Monday night, and I’m still tipsy.
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