“I saw him stagger and sink down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand. She wedged the towel between her legs. And we men would work for them and serve them in loyal fealty. As for my past, Michelle, and Michael’s, it is a book of woeful chapters better left unread. “If you interfere between us,” the man said, “it will go hardly with you. She’s already spoken for. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. She held it by the neck and broke the end of the bottle on the hard dirt.
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