They did not speak until he had driven past town limits and were on the highway. Its walled heaved with black mildew and sea-salt. The pole-chair caravan resumed its journey. She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. You never can go back. Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. “Why do you need to go for a walk, Michelle?” Diane asked darkly. 5.
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