They walked down to the promenade, where the lights had come on. The sea was soft and calm. The gloaming, Henry thought—a word he enjoyed. He took Effie’s hand. There were people out: three or four of them, a family maybe, far ahead of them on the promenade, an old couple down on the beach, a pack of Coast Guard cadets going purposefully down Beach Avenue. Henry had an urge to follow them. Saturday evening: the place was stirring, a little. The storefronts were still dark, but from somewhere deeper in the town came music—jazz, something lively, but very faint, like an echo of the party last night. They came to the end of the promenade, where the horizon was still bright, and Venus hung like a diamond partway up the sky. Henry suggested they sit at one of the benches and watch the light fade, but the wind coming off the water was too chilly, so they turned back.

For supper she fried up some ham and boiled a few small potatoes, which was the last of their food, aside from what they’d saved for breakfast tomorrow. He tried the radio, but on every station it was the news, something the Soviets were doing. Always there was something about the Soviets. Korea, outer space, the threat of nuclear war. He tended to avoid the news. He put on a Glenn Miller record instead, the best thing he could find in Uncle George’s collection, and sat down to say grace.

“I’ll say it,” Effie said. “You don’t put enough feeling into it.”

“You want me to say it like Uncle Carswall?”

“God no, we don’t need a sermon. It’s just—you have to mean what you say. You have to be conscious of it.”

“It’s grace,” Henry said. “It’s ‘Good bread, good meat; good Lord, let’s eat.’”

But she insisted, and Henry said fine, clasped his hands together, and closed his eyes. “Dear Lord,” she said, “thank you for this food we are about to receive, and thank you for this week that Henry and I have shared together, which is the first week of our marriage.”

He opened his eyes. “Today is our one-week anniversary.”

She smiled at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” He closed his eyes again, and she continued: “Thank you for this week, dear Lord, and thank you for bringing us together, and for sending me such a fine and thoughtful husband, who I know will be a support to his family. Please bless us, dear Lord, with healthy children, and be with us as we raise them to be good and sensible people. Bless us with wealth and happiness, dear Lord, inasmuch as you see fit, and please forgive us for all our sins, for we try to be good, and we ask in your name—amen.”