She brought the cups of cocoa back to the bedroom. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. ” “Oh no he doesn’t. ” “You do not flatter me,” she laughed. She’ll have to wait for dinner,” he said, uncomfortably. 35 No homework. She changed into a halter top and a pair of tight jeans herself, and let Lucy brush her long, glossy hair as they talked about mascara, schoolwork, and boys. Figg! In a few minutes, all will be over. Quick, now. Luckily, they were not easily discomposed.
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