Guilt and warm

She felt guilty mentioning Richard's name,She hadn't done anything, anything at all,but she could feel guilt, a guilt born of distant possibilities.She wondered how to manage the end of the evening and if she had gotten herself into something she couldn't handle. Maybe Robert Kincaid would just leave. He seemed pretty quiet, nice enough, even a little bashful.

As they talked on , the evening turned blue,  light fog brushing the meadow grass. He opened two more beers for them while Francesco's stew cooked, quietly.She rose and dropped dumplings into  boiling water,turned,and leaned against the  sink,feeling warm toward Robert Kincaid from Bellingham, Washington, hoping he wouldn't leave too early.

He ate two helping of the stew with quiet good manners and told her twice how fine it was.The watermelon was perfect. The beer was cold.The evening was blue .Francesca Johnson was forty-five years old. and Hank Snow sang a train song on KMA, Shenandoah ,Iowa.

提到理查德的名字，她感到内疚，她还没有做任何事，一点也没有，但她感觉到内疚，一种来自于遥远的可能性的内疚。她不知道她怎么处理晚上剩下的时间，是否她已经把自己带入一种她无法控制的局面。也许罗伯特金凯德会离开。她看起来很安静，非常优雅，甚至有点儿害羞腼腆。

他们继续谈着话，夜变蓝了，薄雾轻拂过草地。他又给他俩打开两三瓶啤酒，弗朗西斯卡的炖菜安静地炖着，她起身把饺子放进沸腾的水中，转身，斜靠着洗涤池，对着来自于白林汉姆华盛顿的罗伯特金凯德，感觉很温暖，盼着他不要离开得太早。

他非常安静优雅地吃了两份炖菜，两次告诉她多么好吃。西瓜很清甜可口，啤酒冰滑舒心，夜很凉爽浪漫，弗朗西斯卡四十五岁，瀚克偲诺在艾克花粥谢南多厄的KMA演唱了一首火车之歌。