Michelle was no exception to the pretty girl rule, but Michelle could be bartered with as she constantly crossed paths with many of the most attractive boys in school. Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound. She thought of her father in the garden, and of her aunt with her Patience, as she had seen them—how many ages was it ago? Just one day intervened. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming. Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!—and never again to behold them! "I am going out for a little while," she said.
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