“Lucy, this isn’t funny anymore. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. “Quite particularly nice,” said her aunt. They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room. “There’s another instinct, too,” he went on, “in a state of suppression, unless I’m very much mistaken; a child-expelling instinct. Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing. She found pieces of it on the blacktop near the green dumpster, amazingly small pieces considering the fabric’s original heft. Stop it!” Anna stepped back bewildered, but the man held out his arms to her. ‘One would take it that the house had been ransacked. “Call me Cathy, John. .
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