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Through the difficulties of two more years there were times of peace, times of exultant companionship and other times of exasperation and bickering, or of silence; it all seemed to settle out into what David called a good marriage.

“Hey, Susan?” he would ask now and then, affecting a boyish bash…

He hurried to the other dark bedroom, where he allowed himself just enough light from the hall for guidance.

“David?” Susan said, half asleep, turning heavily in the bedclothes. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Yeah,” he told her. “Oh, Jesus, baby, so am I.”

And in her arms he discovered th…

And so he had walked right into it, like a comedian walking into a thrown custard pie.

He knew she might not really have meant it, even if she’d thought she did. Girls of that age were so busy being overwhelmed by romance and sex that they didn’t even know what they were saying half the time. St…

All she had to look forward to now was her romance with Eric Nicholson, and I think she may have known even then that it was faltering—his final desertion came the next fall.

She was forty-one, an age when even romantics must admit that youth is gone, and she had nothing to show for the years bu…

Then it was March. The new President promised that the only thing we had to fear was fear itself, and soon after that his head came packed in wood and excelsior from Mr. Nicholson’s foundry.

It was a fairly good likeness. She had caught the famous lift of the chin—it might not have looked like h…