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At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. “The Widgetts,” she said. . She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. If the Wastrel had not turned the instant he did, the ball would have missed him; as it was he turned directly into its path. Years ago, when you were a girl and in the bloom of your beauty, I loved you. "Come Bess,—no whimpering. “Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers.
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