"But how can that be?" Vera's question worked on so many levels she couldn't frame it more precisely.
"It seems he's from a forgotten branch of our family tree. No one knew it, so he was passed over for his stake in numerous inheritances. And now, you see, he has nothing. My uncle wrote me just last week to ask if I couldn't do something to help him, and as it happened, it's been good to have him around after my accident."
Vera had never heard anything so honorable in her life. Still, she couldn't reconcile the reality of Blueberry invading such a gentle and kind man's house with the noble ideal behind it. "But there must be a limit to what you yourself can do -- he can't live with you forever!"
The thought worried Gravor. It was not just that Blueberry had saved his life -- the foolish lummox had risked almost certain death to do so. What was a life worth? If it meant living indefinitely with Blueberry and his cadre of checkered companions, Gravor was inclined to answer, "Not very much."
When they reached Gravor's gate, Vera released his arm, making it plain that she would come no further, although an invitation was unlikely. "I know you'll resolve this," she said. "You always do what's right. Soon enough we'll be able to laugh about it all, I'm sure."
After they said their farewells, Gravor stared off at Vera long after she'd disappeared down the road, trying to understand how a day that had begun with a naked banshee in his kitchen and quickly progressed to indescribable pain and the threat of amputation could carry with it the floral breath of Vera Lilly's perfume, still perceptible on his sleeve, and the delicate seeds of hope in his breast. As eclectic as the day's events had been, a common message permeated throughout: Blueberry could not stay.
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