"I'm sorry," Ruth said again. "And I'm sorry about —Nobbi. I remember, he was short. He had a loud voice, but then he was quiet."

"Quiet forever," Stella said.

The waiter came.

"Can I help you, ladies?"

"We'd like something to eat now," Stella said. "Not the usual menu. Something light." The drink made her truthful. "Attractive."

"I will see to it," he said.

When he had gone, Ruth said, "I think he changed me. I think I can feel what you mean."

Stella thought she meant Nobbi.

They sat in silence again, and then the man came back with a tray laid with linen and silver. The plates were good china. There were leaves of green salad, endive and lettuce, yellow tomatoes and avocado, Brie and Camembert, and whorls of biscuits. In a glass bowl were seedless grapes and checkers of melon.

"That's so lovely," Stella said.

"My pleasure. Is there anything else?"

"No. Thank you."

They drank the last of the vodka and they ate all the cheeses and the delicate watery green pure food.

Ruth and Stella were hungry. They told each other so, and how much they liked what they had. They laughed. And were silent again.

The train began to slow. Outside, the darkness of the countryside.

They looked at each other.

Ruth said, "Shall we get out here?"

"Yes," Stella said. "That's best."

They went into the corridor.

When the train stopped with a long and dismal screeking, they undid the door and descended to the platform.

The electric lights burned, and, under these, skeletal hanging baskets were, without flowers.

Beyond the lighted station, on every side, teemed utter blackness.

There was no one at the ticket barrier, although it was lighted up. Beyond, a half-lit slope of gravel with a shed, itself unlit, labeled: Speedie Cars.

"What will you do?" said Ruth. "How will you get back?"

I'm going to kill her and she asks how I will get back.

"It doesn't matter. Don't worry, Ruth. Maybe there'll be a car. Or I can sleep in the wet woods."

Ruth nodded.

"You could take my coat. It would help to keep you warm."

"No, no, you keep it."

"But I won't need it," Ruth said.

Inside Stella the sword of pain clove sheer. But she did not swerve. That was her way.

As they walked, Ruth came close.

"Take my arm. I liked that."

"Must I do what you like?"

"Just this once."

Stella took Ruth's arm.

Below the station was a muddy road, and along this they went and into the great blackness of the night. The rain trembled.

There were no stars. But the sky had its own color reprieved from the lamps of the city. It was blue. Blue-black, or purple-black, like Stella's clothes.

There was a track, and they moved onto it. It pulled uphill, and the woods came down.

Wet woods, still but for the lilting patter of the rain.