Seven hundred forty-two dollars and eighty-one cents, the sum total of her money in the world that she hid in a filigreed cigar box shelved behind her schoolbooks. "I haven't a word to say, Ah Cum, not a word. I have healed and I am still your wife!\" She looked at him desperately, his eyes illuminated by firelight. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. Meanwhile, she was spirited away from John and bombarded by half-familiar people who attempted to chat with her above the roar of the crowd. I am out of your life forever, never having been in it.
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