"It's beautiful tonight," Merium said.
Ryan was silent.
"Will there be a dance?" she asked.
"Maybe."
"I hope there is."
"Why?"
"I—I don't know. Because everyone's so different afterwards, I suppose—so happy, almost."
Ryan looked at her. Starlight lay gently on her child-like face, hiding the thinness of her cheeks, softening the hunger-shadows beneath her eyes. Again he remembered the night he had almost wanted her and he wanted it to be the same again, only all the way this time. He wanted to want to take her in his arms and kiss her lips and hold her tightly to him, and when desire refused to rise in him, shame took its place, and because he couldn't understand the shame, he supplanted it with anger.
"Men have no happiness!" he said savagely.
"They did once—a long time ago."