The New Yorker: Fiction cover image

Jhumpa Lahiri Reads William Trevor

The New Yorker: Fiction

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Will He Go?

Mrs. Lethwess sees this child, a tiny girl on a rug in the garden. At least what has happened is halfway there to what might have been if the child was hers also. Beggars can't be choosers. The same fear there was on the terrace of the hotel St. George when the letter was still between her fingers. It is pity that keeps him with a barren woman. He will find the courage, and with it will come the hardness of heart that is not naturally his. Then he will go.

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