Walked patiently through the dark streets. She walked past desolate winterlawns and sagging porches; past vacant lots where weeds rustled against tincans; past closed grocery stores and a steaming laundry; past an uncurtainedwindow where a man in shirt sleeves sat by a fire, reading a paper. She turnedcorners and crossed streets, with the feel of cobblestones under the thin solesof her pumps. Rare passersby looked, astonished, at her air of foreign elegance.She noticed it; she felt an answering wonder. She wanted to say: But don’t youunderstand?--I belong here more than you do. She stopped, once in a while,closing her eyes; she found it difficult to breathe.