155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. It was in her eyes—the big thing that comes but once. The twins weren’t far behind, they got put into the psych ward too. She came in now with an air of reserved solicitude. For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted. It was of no use, she let him do it as she could not be strangled.
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