“I will have to go with Louis. You understand that, don’t you, Isabel?” “No,” said Isabel. “Darling,” Eva said. “You can’t.” “Isn’t it better than nothing?” Eva said. “Isn’t it enough?” Isabel took a breath to answer and found that she had no answer to give. Found that she did not know the precise meaning of the word enough, the way Eva used it—not what it meant in relation to another, in relation to her. She had held a pear in her hand and she had eaten it skin and all. She had eaten the stem and she had eaten its seeds and she had eaten its core, and the hunger still sat in her like an open
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