‘Let’s see now. Come along home, Ruth. ’ ‘I thought so,’ Gerald said with satisfaction. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. What does it matter? It is here, and it is here to stay. He looked at her with a certain curiosity. Lucy had passed the house once on the sidewalk, on a rare day when he was shoveling snow. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. He drove to his apartment, a second floor studio he 120 was renting above a bakery. I might forgive him that, for he obviously taught her a good deal that she has found useful. Tell me all that happened, one sister-woman to another.
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