o begin my researc at ed by t of boredom or anxiety or fear o to flick tes and annotations. Bet lives ally neutral lines. It , and ell you o tell you o ter t at nig all.  , t moved me so in tations of t t t nohey were dead.

    Reading t a stirring in me. In me, but not of me. Reading ts, t of me t her side woke and caressed me.

    I never explained to anyone  my fatook note of my preference, and  auction, o get t  all trious dead of try, going back many generations, erlife tranquilly on th me for company.

    It , t I turned ter’s grandfat a baronet, nor a minister, nor a bis still, ocratic origins—title, but a feions earlier t in title y anoty side. tended to folloitles, but still, tion  an entry, so e of birt Angelfield o Matracing er years, I found an amendment a decade later: one son, Cer, Isabelle. After a little more page-turning, I found confirmation of George Angelfield’s death and, by looking her up under March, Roland, Isabelle’s marriage.

    For a moment it amused me to t I o Yorkso er’s story,   tarted t did it prove, trail? Only t suced. to say t Miss inter  found ted could look t s  of names and dates and embroidered a story around to entertain herself?

    Alongside trail for Isabelle came to an end. trees, blood mixed by marriage passed from one generation to t, making an ever- of connections. titles, on to one man, and it  to . On eacitle line o fall ion. t . And, t  said, till mig string of tragedies o occur. But after a certain number of brancree, t of to tion of so restore to prominence. ts limits. So it  a lord)  ; so t ocean of ordinary people, oo insignificant to be erity.

    Cretcself— just—to include ing its sion .  Angelfield.  married.  dead. As far as tion .

    I took out one volume after anotcome I t, t. But eacill Cill of Angelfield, still unmarried. I t again about er old me about Cer, and bit my lip t w his long bachelorhood signified.

    And te forties, I found a surprise. e of birtrange abbreviation—Ldd—t I iced before.

    I turned to table of abbreviations.

    Ldd: legal decree of decease.

    turning back to Cry, I stared at it for a long time, froermark of tself tion of tery.

    In to be dead. As far as I understood, a legal decree of decease ain time ance, o assume t  a person o be lost  trace for seven years before   any time in t period.  not even be dead at all, but only gone, lost or  didn’t necessarily mean dead in person.  kind of life , I  could end in tisfactory way? Ldd.

    I closed t it back in its position on t doo to make cocoa.

    ‘ do you kno to take to o my fatood over tove.

    ‘No more the answer.

    tomer cards. “to ask. Retired professor of la  you e? You migs me to  Justitiae Naturalis Principia for  time.”

    back to to find out  Roland Marc and o t ory section to follo raits,  of fasimer’s Englisraiture contained tion of an early portrait by Leitled Roland, nepist. It is an odd to look into t quite yet a man, in searcures of an old es I studied ures,  of his head.

    ting my time. ere I to look all day and all nig find a trace of twins o hered.