As if his absence quickened something within her, Daisy leaned forward again, her voice glowing and singing.

Sometimes she and Miss Baker talked at once, unobtrusively and with a bantering inconsequence that was never quite chatter, that was as cool as their white dresses and their impersonal eyes in the absence of all desire.

He was balancing himself on the dashboard of his car with that resourcefulness of movement that is so peculiarly American⁠—that comes, I suppose, with the absence of lifting work in youth and, even more, with the formless grace of our nervous, sporadic games.