Only a sense of an ending, because there were so many loose ends at the close of the book that the reader is left not with a feeling of completeness, but a horde of questions. Tony, the narrator, is, in a word, boring. He's flitted through life, always taking the path of least resistance and never ever taking a chance. Or has he? The 'peaceable' man that he remembers himself to have been could not have possibly written that ugly brutal letter to Adrian and Veronica. Maybe he was a truly nasty human being, but has managed to suppress those horrid memories, leaving only the washed out shell of himself in mind.

I think the book is more about memory than the slender mystery revealed in the final few pages. What we choose to remember, and how we construct the narrative of our lives. Tony's memories of his youth change, even as he delivers them, and there's no way of knowing which set of memories lies closest to the truth.