“I’m not crying!” “Yeah, well, what the hell do you call it?” “What I call it is none of your business!” “Come here—come here!” She kept trying to bat his hands away to keep him from touching her, but he caught both her hands in his. “Hannah, you are going to drive me crazy, you know that!” She looked up at him. He had such a frown. Ernie, she thought. She didn’t want him to frown; he’d had enough worry with Browne women. She gave in to a sudden, insane impulse to wrap her arms around him, to take the comfort he wanted to give her, if only for a second. She needed him, and at that moment, she didn’t care if he knew it. She hugged him tightly, her eyes closed, the tears squeezing out the corners and spilling down her cheeks. But she couldn’t be this close to him, either. She stiffened and tried to move away from him, but he wouldn’t let her go, keeping her close and making her put her head on his shoulder, holding her for what seemed a wonderfully long time.
