” “Nobody does that,” said Ramage, and kept silence for a moment. But one of these days everything will click back into place. She found herself alone in the train asking herself what she must do next, and trying not to think of herself as cut off from home or any refuge whatever from the world she had resolved to face. She could feel his penis pressing against her, half-erect under the starched black tuxedo pants. She felt she must fly before it and could no longer do so. His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years.
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