’ She paused, struggling for the word. My heart fails me. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. But for Ruth, he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably damned. “Beats me. " Ruth did so, but without any particular fervour. He reached the top floor and ran down the corridor to the little dressing room at the end where he had lost her before. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. ’ ‘A life of ease?’ repeated Melusine.
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