Cathy threw Mike a look. ” “You have not answered my question,” he reminded her. Mike sat down, his body too large for the petite blue couch. I knew him in spite of his dress. His throat filled; he wanted to weep. He had almost forced himself upon her one night after a particularly bloody raid of a thatched cottage. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. But I am not worthy to be any man's wife —far less his wife. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook.
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