" O'Higgins emptied an inside pocket—and purposely let the battered photograph fall to the ground. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. She lay very still and closed her eyes, hear tears gliding off of her ears, causing them to itch. She saw herself in very much Vivie’s position—managing something. Of course, he had no idea who I was. I don’t mean I’m not a good woman—I mean that I’m not a GOOD woman. She drank it obediently. She thought of all sorts of odd and desperate expedients, and with passionate petulance rejected them all. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment.
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