He reached into the pocket of his tweed vest, took out his silver pocket watch, and set it flat on the wooden side table next to his mug of black tea.

The silver case glowed under the warm lampshade, its long chain coiled neatly like a little rope against the dark oak.

Sadie propped her elbows on his wool trousers and looked up at the open page of black print.

“Read the steam engine part in the mountain pass again, Grandpa,” she whispered.

“Page eighty-four,” my father said, laying his hand lightly on her shoulder as he started to read in his calm, steady military rhythm.

I went down the quiet hall past the coat rack to the back porch door off the kitchen.