The young lady with whom I was dining last night was Miss Anna Pellissier. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. “We parted— that night the best of friends. Cathy and Shari toiled over boiling pots of potatoes, candied sweet potatoes with orange rind, corn casserole, and almond green beans. And this was an adventure of which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South Seas. ” Lucy coolly marveled as she studied the girl’s face, belly swollen from pregnancy. 266 She peered up at him. ’ ‘What name would you like, then?’ Her shadowed features turned in his direction. I’m okay. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. His hands were exploring her once again in the car.
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