“People don’t go away with clarinet players. Not people like us.”
“Where’s Harry now?”
“Chicago.”
“Married?”
She shook her head.
“Did you love him?”
She shook it the other way and cried harder.
“He love you?”
“Of course he did, you fool! He loved me until Mother talked to him, and Dad—on and on, day after day—and he went to Chicago.”
“When did all this happen?”