‘But there is something still I do not understand. She leaned back as he climbed on top of her and kissed her mouth again. He wished he had the time to solve this riddle, for it was a riddle, and four-square besides. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it. She studied her form in the full length mirror, assessed 69 her body as one would that of a prize calf, trying to see it through his eyes, through the eyes of desire. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past.
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