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the man alit from the dogsled, and continued on foot.
    —What is a dogsled? interrupted Stan.
    —You know what a dog is?
    He frowned at her.
    —You know what a sled is?
    —Of course.
    —Make the dogs pull the sled and you have a dogsled. People say that this really happens in the coldest parts of the world, but I have never seen it. Do I believe there are dogsleds? I don’t believe it or disbelieve it. It does seem unlikely, though, that dogs could be found who would want to do this.
    —Is this the second book of a series?
    —No.
    —Then, how do we know where the man was before?
    —We don’t, yet.
    —All right. What’s monochrome?
    —We’ll get nowhere if I define everything for you. Just listen and pick things up by what they might seem to mean.
    She drew a breath and began again.
    —The snows began to end, then, as he ascended that final hill. At its crest, the weather broke, and there was green grass, stretched out like a promise. The man fell to his knees there, and tears ran down his face. Then the dogs were licking at his face again, climbing over their own harnesses, to wake him, and he was leaned over the front of the sled, confused by the cold, biting wind cutting into his eyes, and there were miles still to…
    Stan was asleep. He was always falling asleep, this one. She moved closer and put her face near his, listening. A small rasping sound accompanied his breathing.
    —Would you have stayed awake for the other book? she asked.
    Of course, the boy said nothing.

The Second Visit, 5
    Customarily, this day was passed by Loring in that upstairs room. Sitting there in the kitchen, with the daylight and the distances the balloons had made just beyond the window, she felt drawn too far out of herself and her habits. She left the boy sleeping and went back upstairs, and sat again.
    And now, the problem was before her, presenting itself, like an occasion of laughter, generously and all at once. Should she open the box?
    It was in its new place, where the boy had moved it. She did not dare to touch it to move it back. The lines on the table where it had been, faint dust lines, remained. It was almost like there were two boxes now. It troubled her to think of what the difference would be now, in opening it when it had been moved.
    She stirred then to open it, but stood instead, and then sat down again. The walls of the little room were a thin color, and she felt that she could see into the distance, despite all evidence to the contrary.
    A dog was whining on the street below. She heard its mistress speaking. The woman said,
    —The last one is coming. We can see it best from over here. No, no.
    And then there was a knocking at the door.
    Loring came down the stairs, as swiftly as she could, and looked through the little window to the right of the door, which opened with a flap. There was indeed a woman outside, and holding a dog.
    —What do you want?
    —Excuse me, excuse me.
    —What do you want?
    —I live just down the road. I wonder, I know it is far too much to ask, and I would never want to presume, but I have seen this house so many times and thought how lovely it must be inside, and I was wondering, there is the Jubilee, did you know, the Jubilee is this week, and I was wondering if it might be possible to observe the final balloon from your window, as you see, it is heading into the distance there, and can’t really be seen from the street and by the time I got to the top of the hill, it would already be gone. Might I?
    —You want to look at the balloon from my window? That’s what you’re saying?
    —I hope it isn’t the wrong thing to say? Did I say that, the wrong thing? I’m terribly sorry if I did. My dog, of course, must come, if I come in. I can’t leave him behind. He is so anxious.
    Now, here’s the thing. It wasn’t a dog at all. This woman had her husband on a leash.
    Loring stared dumbfounded at the pair. From behind her, in the house, a voice came.
    —How long was I asleep