“Never?"

“Oh, she talks. She tells great stories about their life in the lumber camps. She has a gift for saying a few things about a person and you feel you know all about them. And they came across a lot of real characters. To tell the truth, I found myself really envying the complete freedom of their life. Always a new place, new people, new sights. Jane? You're frowning. You wouldn't agree?"

“Sorry, but no. And you might not either if you'd grown up that way. I never went to the same school for two years in my life. You and Shelley may not have been in constant touch all these years, but you have something in common that I'm green with jealousy about — a common past."

“Oh, Jane," Shelley said, "don't be maudlin. You know I've given you half my past.”

Jane laughed. "Only the dirty, wrinkled parts."

“The dirty parts are the best," Shelley said. "Grace, didn't Sarah show any enthusiasm about opening the deli? Was she actually antagonistic about doing it?"

“Oh, no. She's not antagonistic about anything. You give her a job to do and she does it. And does it well, promptly and cheerfully. But in a strange way, that's what makes her so frustrating. You keep waiting for the spark of genuine enthusiasm — about anything — and it never comes. It's as if she's a really competent actress, but not a brilliant one who can make her character come alive."

“Have you tried to get her to a shrink?" Shelley asked bluntly.

Grace didn't take offense. "Of course. But she just looks at me like I'm the one who needs help and says she's perfectly all right and why would I think otherwise. In fact, that's the only dispute — if you could even call it that — I've had with Conrad. I suggested to him that she might benefit from some professional help and he cut me down like a cornstalk. No. That sounds nasty. He was quite pleasant and polite about it, but made it clear it wasn't even to be considered. And I can see his point, in a way."