They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. As soon as he had read it, he let it fall from his grasp. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better. “I would have given up anything to see you your old self again—as you are this evening. But suppose I go?” “Now, Veronica! No, no. It was a sickening process, and the sucking sound was sure to wake up Ray’s mother.
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