She saw Lucy darkening her doorstep and stood from the recliner. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. . She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. ‘Danged if I ever hear the like,’ he repeated blankly. ‘You imbecile. She liked to do it for Cathy Beck, so that she could relax after waitressing all day at the Big Apple with a homemade meal. The primitive superstition of his Puritan forbears was his; and before this the buckler of his education disintegrated.
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