(She gazed at her husband. Being loved and admired by a man like that-and she knew that this man, this mechanic, this fixer of machines with their broken hearts, did indeed love and admire her-was like walking in the sunshine; it gave the same feeling of warmth and pleasure to bask in the love of one who has promised it, publicly at a wedding ceremony, and who is constant in his promise that such love will be given for the rest of his days. What more could any woman ask? None of us, she thought, not one single one of us, could ask for anything more than that.)