"Remember?" Marian asked. She had a child's expectancy.
Norbert nodded. He stood at the foot of her bed in his shapeless khaki.
Marian's blue eyes were so pale now.
It wasn't the morning light splashing
into the unpainted rough pine siding of the attic. It was
Marian's eyes.
They were washed pale now. There were creases and
blotches and sagging skin, but out of the midst of the ruin of her face
were those familiar eyes. She could tell the best stories.
Her hair was brittle and thin. Her flimsy nightgown was dirty and her
arms came out of it sticks hung with white flab. She could not bear to
have him touch her or she demanded and then savaged him with her
ferocious unsatable need.
Marian could not be given what she needed.
She needed so much, she had so much to her she wasn't like anyone else,
he had always seen that. It had drawn him to her.
He had never thought of any other woman.
Marian, Marian, second cousin Marian.
Norbert was nearly bald on top except for a few colorless strands.