"Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. Lucy sat in the back seat as the trio sped through intersections in the old sedan. Her favor was sought beyond all women’s favors. "Take my life, if you're so disposed. And yet he knew clearly and definitely what he purposed to do, what the future would be. He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once. She had worn a long skirt that morning, and a roomier sweater that was slightly easier to handle than Shari’s low cut numbers. Wild in my presence! He's the right-hand of the community! We could do nothing without him!" "We!" repeated Wood, significantly. She leaves me almost without comparisons.
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