“Put her in the trunk. She took his hand in hers. She laughed altogether in her old manner. He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate. ‘Tell me about the convent? Were you happy there? They were kind to you, the nuns?’ ‘Oh, but yes. You have changed from the veriest butterfly to a woman—you wear different clothes, you have the air of another world. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. You’ll end there one day, mark my words. There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. She looked in the glass over and over as she checked for lint and makeup streaks. " "Because he said he was a Yale man?" "That might be it. on. " The girl smiled and began to munch a sandwich.
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