He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. You know—if you want freedom. She rose from her chair, and began walking up and down the room restlessly. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. . He cherished her. She 191 picked up the remote, usurping it of its dividing status between their bodies.
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