It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken. The thought did not occur to her, for all thought had flown out of her head. That was odd: when young people were joyous, they had to express it physically. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. Babies and females have got to keep hold of somebody or go under—anyhow, for the next few generations. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. She knew now that he never would.
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