Connie Rivers

"Connie, her (Rose of Sharon's) nineteen-year-old husband, who had married a plump, passionate hoyden, was still frightened and bewildered at the change in her; for there were no more cat fights in bed, biting and scratching with muffled giggles and final tears.  There was a balanced, careful, wise creature who smiled shyly but very firmly at him.  Connie was proud and fearful of Rose of Sharon.  Whenever he could, he put a hand on her or stood close, so that his body toughed her at hip and shoulder, and he felt that this kept a relation that might be departing.  He was a sharp-faced, lean young man of a Texas strain, and his pale blue eyes were sometimes dangerous and sometimes kindly, and sometimes frightened.  He was a good hard worker and would make a good husband.  He drank enough, but not too much; fought when it was required of him; and never boasted.  He sat quietly in the gathering and yet managed to be there to be recognized.

(Chapter 10, pages 95-96--Audio: Ch.10, Part Vii--0:15 )