MY friend Herb McGinnis, a cardiologist, was talking. The four of us were sitting around his kitchen table drinking gin. - P179
There were Herb and I and his second wife, Teresa—Terri, we called her—and my wife, Laura. We lived in Albuquerque, but we were all from somewhere else. - P179
She was a bone-thin woman with a pretty face, dark eyes, and brown hair that hung down her back. She liked necklaces made of turquoise, and long pendant earrings. She was fifteen years younger than Herb, had suffered periods of anorexia, and during the late sixties, before she’d gone to nursing school, had been a dropout, a "street person" as she put it. Herb sometimes called her, affectionately, his hippie. - P179
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