There were two. He crawled underneath the covers with her. "Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is. This laugh and his looks alarmed her. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. Senior year started with a whimper. Be honest, and you will be happy. Then, in a few years, he and Ruth might fare forth in comfort and security.
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