When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic. She married my Dad in a small ceremony down at City Hall. Courtlaw might have been able to give me an idea where to stop. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. Then there was also the horse. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. ’ Jack stepped out, and pushed the door to. .
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