She breathed deeply. Fascination. Horrible memories of things seen beneath the microscope of the baser forms of life crawled across her mind and set her shuddering with imagined irritations. ‘That is what she wants, is it?’ ‘Do you blame her?’ he said stiffly. I don’t want to influence you unduly—But—They’re artistic people, Vee. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. " Silence. He was nearly wincing. What marriage really meant (aside from the idea of escape), Ruth had not the least conception, no more than a child.
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