” “I have been through dozens of foster parents, John. A common rage flushed their faces. “—but this cannot be. She would just have to show up and hope for the best. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. Darrell. The tiles lay a foot thick in the road. I love you—with all my heart and soul. He seemed safe from the sickness, having been surrounded by the dying, he had witnessed the carnage up close and yet his health still prevailed. Why should she? she asked rebelliously. The ruffled chemise-front under the wide lapels of her waistcoat and jacket no longer quivered, and her pose, with the full cloth petticoat spreading about her, was relaxed.
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