t　a　miracle　would　occur　and　Jack　would

see　what　was　happening；　not　only　to　him　but　to　her。　But　there　had　been　no

slowdown。　A　drink　before　going　off　to　the　Academy。　Two　or　three　beers　with　lunch

at　the　Stovington　House。　Three　or　four　martinis　before　dinner。　Five　or　six　more

while　grading　papers。　The　weekends　were　worse。　The　nights　out　with　Al　Shockley

were　worse　still。　She　had　never　dreamed　there　could　be　so　much　pain　in　a　life

when　there　was　nothing　physically　wrong。　She　hurt　all　the　time。　How　much　of　it

was　her　fault？　That　question　haunted　her。　She　felt　like　her　mother。　Like　her

father。　Sometimes；　when　she　felt　like　herself　she　wondered　what　it　would　be　like

for　Danny；　and　she　dreaded　the　day　when　he　grew　old　enough　to　lay　blame。　And　she

wondered　where　they　would　go。　She　had　no　doubt　her　mother　would　take　her　in；　and

no　doubt　that　after　a　year　of　watching　her　diapers　remade；　Danny's　meals

recooked　and/or　redistributed；　of　ing　home　to　find　his　clothes　changed　or　his

hair　cut　or　the　books　her　mother　found　unsuitable　spirited　away　to　some　limbo　in

the　attic　。。。　after　half　a　year　of　that；　she　would　have　a　plete　nervous

breakdown。　And　her　mother　would　pat　her　hand　and　say　fortingly；　Although　it's

not　your　fault；　it's　all　your　own　fault。　You　were　never　ready。　You　showed　your

true　colors　when　you　came　between　your　father　and　me。

My　father；　Danny's　father。　Mine；　his。

（Who　giveth　this　woman？　I　do。　Dead　of　a　heart　attack　six　months　later。）

The　night　before　that　morning　she　had　lain　awake　almost　until　he　came　in；

thinking；　ing　to　her　decision。

The　divorce　was　necessary；　she　told　herself。　Her　mother　and　father　didn't

belon