His manner was deferential, even eager. Tell Lucy about the time you were nine years old and blew up the house, John. His name is John. He drove her to the Beck house, pulling up behind Cathy's red Nissan. That was life. I think he got sick of us and he disappeared not one week later. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. He had been on the point of leaving the restaurant. And in this fact lay his danger. " "Probably not. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations.
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