She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. She felt he would tell people the way, control traffic, and refuse admission to public buildings with invincible correctness and the very finest explicit feelings possible. “What are you doing?” “Nothing. A woman was born to have children, particularly male children. I will make her my Grail, and some day, perhaps, if God wills, she shall become my wife!’” He looked very hard before him as he said this, and his voice was full of deep feeling. Only of course I must begin something else at once. I need a white man, if only to talk to; and it will be a god send to talk to someone of your intelligence. . ’ ‘So I infer. “Hello? She’s like, your girlfriend, not mine. There is a button loose on that coat under your pillow. Give me that precious charge," he added, snatching the bundle from Wood.
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