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She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. If, around noon, a coconut proa landed, the boys made no effort to unload. “Wow.
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