“No, I guess not,” he finally said. XXX Theresa closed the picture. Theresa marched right up to where he was still sitting with his back to her. She felt as if she had become liquid, warm—barely aware of her body’s discomfort as it lay, head down, across the cart and the spines of the books on it. His voice was deep and had a hint of gravel in it. The rare request for an interlibrary loan or a new card was a major event. So she shrugged and selected the light gray skirt and her brightest blouse. He held her there for a long moment before he finally spoke again. Imagining the humiliation of being treated like that, especially in a place of business.
