Someone Has Been Disarranging These Roses Summary

This story begins with an interior monologue in which the narrator notes that since it is Sunday and it has stopped raining, "I'll take a bouquet of roses to my grave." Then the narrator ruminates on the ease or difficulty of reaching the child's grave and remembers that "she" is lost in a mystical reverie, which makes it impossible for him to snatch a few flowers from the altar because "she" snaps out of her swoon just as he approaches. The narrator calculates that he will now have to wait until "she" takes her Sunday siesta to grab some flowers to take to the grave. He recalls that when he passed her in the hall the previous week, she seemed like the girl who 40 years earlier had leaned over his bed and said...