62 <8> A FIRST DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER The weekend began for her with that luxury of all luxuries, sleep. What would it be without that safeguard?” Ogilvy pursued his own topic. Ruth took hers in the sea, but was careful never to go beyond her depth because of the sharks. “Well?” she said. She had followed a bobbing white hat and gray jacket until she reached the Euston Road corner of Tottenham Court Road, and there, by the name on a bus and the cries of a conductor, she made a guess of her way. Maybe half a year, counting this summer. This farewell had been particularly distasteful to him.
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