Dinner was quieter than the previous night, not because anything was wrong, but because the house occasionally held that quality—where the day had been long, not difficult, but full, and people arrived at the table exhausted in a comfortable way, needing no words to fill the silence.
Lily did most of the talking. Her conversation was easy and warm, the kind that required nothing from those who were silent.
Diana contributed when it felt necessary. Rex ate with the unhurried patience he brought to everything, responding only to questions posed to him and remaining silent otherwise.
Elizabeth was present in the way she had learned to be in spaces where she managed something internal; she was there, attentive, entirely composed, and careful not to let her emotions show on her face.
After dinner, Rex helped clear the dishes as he had begun to do, while Elizabeth remained at the table with her wine, chatting with Lily and Diana.
