In between naps she increasingly found herself gazing at him, his large nose, his eyes circled in silvery plum shadows, his thin lips parted as he slept baring a rim of perfect teeth. And when she learned that she had been doubly cheated, what then? His thoughts began to fall on her side of the scales, and his own misery grew lighter as he anticipated hers. “But—” The long inconsecutive conversation by that time was getting on her nerves. The larger problem at hand was drugging her foster sister, Shari, into a deep sleep. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor. He talked with his manner gentle and kindly. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror.
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