I tried to clear my sleepy mind, and I reached for her. She shied away a step."No, Frederick, please!" she insisted. "I need to talk to you. I need to...tell you something." She was speaking very lowly."Why are you whispering?" I asked, muddled."Shhh! Please, Frederick. We must be quiet. I must show you this!" She acted suddenly indecisive. "At least, I think I should. We MUST talk! Please?"I sat up in bed and patted the space next to me. Reluctantly, she sat, her hands on her lap, her eyes. My pants…there would have been a pocket watch in one of the front pockets, probably the left one, but maybe the right. It’s a precious family heirloom,’ he lied. ‘It’s also very old, dating back to before the 1800’s, even.’ That much was true, at least as far as it went. She looked around the room for the plastic bag that usually held the patient’s clothes. ‘I don’t see it. Let me check your chart. Ah, here it is. After you were admitted, one of your sons, Leonard, took your clothes home with. More

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