In the morning and at night he is dressed as he would dress in the big hotels. This is retribution. “Good God!” he exclaimed. His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. More than this, it would serve to mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it temporarily with his. And yet, as she rose slowly to her feet and stood looking at him with outstretched hands, a strange mixture of expressions shining in her wonderful eyes, he realized in some measure the strength of her determination, felt the utter impotence of anything which he could say to her. You are your own Heaven and your own Hell, Lucy. "Besides, you'll not be able to get in without me. Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words.
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