"That's a glorious reward. ’ ‘Why not?’ Gerald asked straightly. I was supposed to do the same, but I didn’t. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. She felt her chest trying to float up, but the blessed undertow, the dreaded reason why she was warned to never bathe in the ocean, sucked her feet down, putting the decision where it belonged, into the hands of God. The prisoner was then thrust in by Quilt.
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