Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. Tears flowed in rivulets down 121 her cheeks and she began to cry. “DON’T!” she said, and wrenched her wrist from his retaining hand. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. ‘What is this proof?’ ‘I will not tell you. Love … to take her in his arms and to comfort her: and then to add to her cup of bitterness the knowledge that her husband was a thief! For himself he did not care; God could continue to grind and pulverize him; but to add another grain to the evil he had already wrought upon Ruth was unthinkable. Lucy did her best to avoid talking about it, but the subject was beguiling, as it almost always brought news about him from the grapevine within which Michelle was intravenously entwined.
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