We are off for a second honeymoon. 1. It would be easy enough for me to write an eloquent letter about something else. A sound sleeper, she was not roused by the creaky openings and closings of drawers as Lucy packed a single duffle bag with underwear and soap that was pilfered from a multipack of Zest in the Beck’s downstairs bathroom. “Why destroy me, child? There are so many secrets I 231 could tell you. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. And yet to Spurlock it was only the title of a story he would some day write. I too can see it. His tone was kind and sympathetic. Clarice rubbed her belly, singing songs to the unborn baby.
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