Once more he was the searcher. ” Lucy considered the irony that Michelle had spent seventeen years waiting to escape the suburban existence she had always longed to live. She must kill this man, or kill herself. The psychic vibration of him thickened the air of the room as if he were already inside. Any natural fineness would be numbed by drink. Catch him, she begged silently. She wanted him, she needed sex, but the two ideas had not formed an equation where a concrete result could be deduced. CHAPTER XIX. I've come all these miles for this young fellow; but I don't cotton to the idea of lallygagging four weeks in this burg. But the father, to go his way forever alone! The iron in the man!—the iron in this child of his! Wanting a little love, a caress now and then. Many things were only words, sounds; she could not construct these words and sounds into objects; or, if she did, invariably missed the mark.
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