A Bronx jury . . . And all at once Kramer was no longer thinking of the same cluster of dark faces that Ray and Jimmy were thinking of ... He was thinking of those perfect smiling teeth and those sweet full lips glistening with brown lipstick and those shining eyes across a little table in the very heart of ... the Life . . . which existed only in Manhattan . . . Jesus ... He was broke after he paid the bill at Muldowny's ... but when he hailed her a cab out in front of the place and he held out his hand to thank her and say goodbye, she let her hand stay in his, and he increased the pressure, and she squeezed back, and they stayed that way, looking into each other's eyes, and1—God!— that moment was sweeter, sexier, more full of—goddamn it!— love, genuine love, the love that just hits you and . . . fills up your heart . . . than any of those slam-bang first-date scores he used to pride himself on when he was out prowling like a goddamned cat ... No, he would forgive Bronx juries a lot. A Bronx jury had brought into his life the woman he had been destined to meet all along . . . Love, Destiny, How Full My Heart . . . Let others shrink from the meaning of those terms . . . Ray whaling down his super-sub, Jimmy grousing morosely about Willie Francisco and Lester McGuigan . . . Larry Kramer existed on a more spiritual plane . . .