Monday: The convictions that had driven him for twenty-five years wavered in a rush of uncertainty.
Tuesday: If his mother had poured music into his soul, his father had branded his bold heresy upon it.
Wednesday: He had been braced then for her to shrink . . . or to have subdued her doubts with his kisses
Thursday: He had lost himself for a few moments reliving happier times, but he had known such a question as this must come.
Friday: "That is where my mother herself dropped it on the day that she learned my father had fallen afoul of our baron.”
Saturday: In all the years Robert had remembered her with warmth and gratitude, it had never crossed his mind that she may have paid a price for the service she had rendered him that day.