“Is the bridge being built?” she asked feebly.
I knew that the work was about to start.
Mary used to ferry people across the river in her small country boat. Ever since the news spread that a bridge had been sanctioned, she would ask me, the municipal member of the area, the same question.
“No. The idea has been dropped,” I told her.
“Thank God…”
She returned to her delirious state and started babbling but the smile remained on her face.