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Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. A wrathful God was watching him. Kneebone cordially on the shoulder, and began to laugh as heartily as any of them. After dessert was finished, John took Lucy for a ride in his car. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. God would have taken mercy on her baby, seeing that she had already had too much pain and that he had taken her beloved mother. He had reacted by laughing at her, informing her coolly that she was naïve in many things. Lucy didn’t seem like a teenage girl at all to Sheila and she knew it.
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