zhang189

@@@@@There are times in the middle of the day when he halts in the middle of a report, catches himself looking at his pencilYou’re not such a roughneck, Patty says, slim and crisp and virginal, the older sister — half mother
Memory as the flagellantI don’t understand it a goddam bitWhat the hell makes them change that way, why can’t a woman stay decent?
You’ll never be like that, will you, Beverly? he says that night
Aw, no, honey, how can you even think it?
They are very close for the moment, and his troubles spill outHonestly, Bev, keeping up with everything makes me go so goddam fast; I get so I just want to take a breath, you know what I meanA man’s own sister, it puts quite a stir in you
In the barrooms, in the smoking cars, in the locker room at the golf club they are talking about Patty Brown
I swear, Bev, I ever catch you in anything like that, I’ll kill you, so help me I’ll kill you
Honey? You can trust meBut she is thrilled by the sudden burst of his passion
I feel a hell of a lot older, Bev

On the eighteenth he lines up the putt, estimates the roll of the greenIt is a five-foot shot and he should make it, but he knows suddenly that he’s going to failThe handle of the putter thonks dully against his palms as the ball rolls short a foot
Missed again, son, Mr
Just not my day, I guessWe might as well get back to the locker roomHis palms still hold a numb uncertain feelingThey stroll back slowlyYou come to Louisville, son, and it’ll be a pleasure to take you out to my club, Mr
I might take you up on it, sirCranborn is singing “When you wore a tulip and 1 wore a
What’re we doin’ tonight, son?
We’ll just do the town,