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Show 51 lights. The movies were letting out now, Roger said, and reached for her again. But she was an empty shell once more, numb at the center, hollow. She allowed him to hold her, but that was all. He was angry. What was the matter? Her tooth was bothering her, she said. Did she want to go home? No, she said, she just wanted to sit here for awhile. They sat watching the lights of the city as the straight stretch filled with cars parking. They did not talk, she sensed his anger-his frustration-passing. It helped, sitting here with him beside her. Just him being there, another presence. It was not until he dropped her off at the house, not until she was alone in the front room, that the unfeeling hardness fully returned. It was a weight within her. A dead thing she carried about. She suddenly yearned to be free of it. It irritated her, greatly irritated her. Everyone was upstairs, evidently asleep. With the long evenings of summer, Katie and her husband, Oscar, were often up now watching the movie on television when she got home on Saturday night. But tonight they were upstairs. She wondered suddenly if they had made love tonight. If they were making love now. No, the house was very quiet, they must be asleep. Oscar was not around much, usually just during supper. He was the supervisor of a drapery manufacturing plant in Culver City. A large, quiet man. A mystery to her-she did not understand him, not at all. What kind of lover was he? She was sure that Roger had never |