She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent. "Egad!" exclaimed Wood, "you've hit the right nail on the head, anyhow. Which were perfectly true, as Gerald was aware. She had grabbed! She became less and less attentive to his meditative, self-complacent fragments of talk as she told herself this. “John, of course I forgive you if it is what you need from me. It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own. She looked at the suitcase sadly and stashed it underneath her bed.
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