““At one time, Robert might have lost himself in a daydream, one in which his mother fled to his side in tears, desperate for his help. He’d save her through a combination of wit and good sense. And she would tearfully apologize for having avoided him. In his youth, when he’d imagined her heartfelt regrets, he’d always told her not to cry. “Don’t worry,” he’d imagined himself saying. “We have years left ahead of us.” He hadn’t run out of time, but hopes could be dashed only so many times before one gave up out of weariness.””
