...How could anything as delicate as love turn into the harsh accusation of [his] eyes? (book 3 chapter 11) - Jo Sinclair

Anna Teller was the only refugee on the plane from Munich to New York.

All that summer, as no white people came to rent the empty, upstairs suites of the Valenti house or the Golden house, tension had mounted in the street. Only Negroes came. (first lines)

The walls of Saturday moved in on him with a combined pressure of fear and relief, the walls of a confessional. And yet these walls were different, too, pressing as they did ever closer toward him. (Chapter Six, p195)