Chapter 11
The time was late evening and the place was the bathroom of a motel unit, and Max Flagg was automatically going through the routine of washing, brushing his teeth, and pulling on his pajamas.
It had been a quiet week. They had visited some of Doris' relatives and had pressed on westward until now they were near Denver. During this time, a kind of respectful silence had sprung up between them. They conversed pleasantly, like strangers cast together by chance on the same trip, they were courteous, they were casual. They didn't speak of the past and said little of the future.
Sometimes Max wondered why Doris had chosen to stay with him. All she had said was, "Well try it together for a while and see how it turns out." It portended a bleak future, and he wondered why she was read
