’ Jack blinked at her. They reluctantly went back to school the Thursday after New Year’s Day. No matter how often she came across this phase in love stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human beings perfectly understood. It may be instinctive; it may be that children vaguely realize that at the end of all wedding journeys is disillusion. “Have to go now. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. Don't you understand? Back among your own again, and only a few of us the wiser. Yet an indiscriminating, wrong-headed world gave such fellows all sorts of distinctions.
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