A coarse mirthless chuckle.
The pilgrims disembark.
II
Plymouth.
A year later.
Night.
She lay sleepless on her bed.
She heard the outside door open; Kennicott returning from prayer meeting.
He sat down on the bed and began pulling off his boots. She knew that the left boot would stick. She knew exactly what he would say and how long it would take him to get it off. She rolled over in bed, a tactical movement which left no blanket for her husband.
"You weren't at prayer meeting," he said.