Part 4 After a day or so she thought more steadily. She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. Why do I want him so badly? Why do I want him, and think about him, and fail to get away from him? “It isn’t all of me. What could I do?’ ‘Anything but to bring him to me,’ Melusine threw at him. “Not at all. Birthdays just ain’t the same once you get old kiddo. No girl with a face like that….
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