"If you don't decide quickly, I'll scream," cried Mrs. . “More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. ’ The girl glanced up the road and turned back, annoyance in her face. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. She twisted her fingers tightly. But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go. Or felt it. "Now stand before me, Poll.
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