I wrote three letters yesterday and tore them up. "Fold it … under the pillow. " "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood. Shari regaled Lucy with soap operatic tales of boy-girl intrigues at the high school, then spoke of her aspirations for the future. Then, after Capes had been through her work and had gone on, it came to her that the fabric of this life of hers was doomed to almost immediate collapse; that in a little while these studies would cease, and perhaps she would never set eyes on him again. “Is Coke okay?” He asked as he pulled into the gas station.
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