Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. ‘The truth is, Everett,’ she said brightly, limping up to the general and tucking a hand in his arm, ‘that the girl is you all over again. “The white unaggressive woman who corrects and nurses and serves, and is worshipped and betrayed—the martyr-queen of men, the white mother. Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. We’ll go to the shops. “By God! Ann Veronica,” he said, sighing deeply. ’ ‘Was it?’ Her lips twitched. Lucy inhaled deeply.
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