Then she would write and tell her father what she had done, and put their relationship on a new footing. ” She was silent, and in the gloom of the dimly lit apartment he could not see her face. She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. ’ ‘Prudence,’ repeated Gerald unguardedly. ” He stood before the door. Don't unman him. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change.
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