I want to talk to you, and I must return tomorrow. It was a sickening process, and the sucking sound was sure to wake up Ray’s mother. She moaned as he buried himself completely to the hilt. Even the basest objects sold in the 24 roadside shops were beautiful in some way. She was surprised to find how stored her mind was with impressions and memories of him, how vividly she remembered his gestures and little things that he had said. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not. How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? She came upon the Song of Songs—which had been pasted down in the Enschede Bible—the burning litany of love; and from time to time she intoned some verse of tender lyric beauty. ‘For my money, you’ll not get much out of old Jarvis either. “It isn’t a joke,” she said. He ran back to his car, glancing only once at the man in the car. Saturday mornings at the Beck house were routine, coffee, newspaper, bagels, and Looney Toons in no particular order.
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