” Lucy considered the irony that Michelle had spent seventeen years waiting to escape the suburban existence she had always longed to live. “No,” she answered. Wood uttered something like an imprecation. ‘It is to say goodbye, you understand. “The fool I have been!” he cried; and now speech was coming to him. You say you love me and want to marry, but those are strong, potent words, words meant to last a lifetime. Here I am as an alternative either to nasty work—or going home. Your attitude to me—” He fell into a brown study. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt.
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