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I knew where I would go next: Florence. It was bleeding again. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. I have been around them for long enough. It is like some accident. She ought to have written at once and told him exactly what had happened. She took the tray with both hands, gulped, and gave way to tears. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. ” She looked at him with uplifted eyebrows—a look of whimsical incredulity. His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of love’s unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of the rowers. “Great, Cathy. “Good-bye, John,” she said simply. Sometimes I think she’s tired of us.
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