"Weigh anchor, Van!" he shouted to the skipper, "and consult your despatches. \"Actually, John, I really must get going. I tried painting and couldn’t get on. I think that there is no better friend for a girl than a man rather older than herself. By the time John returned with popcorn and a large Coke, the theater had filled up with high-school kids. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. Some have no males. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter.
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