When Barry looked up, he was in her dorm room, sitting on her narrow chastity bed on her white comforter beside stuffed rabbits he had bought her, after not winning them at the "Monk Rack" at the Church fair. Three balls for a dollar. The plump rag monks stood, unflinching, sneering at him.
  "Guess, I'm mastering that this travel business," he thought. "Don't even need pictures."
  "What is it in those pictures, bud?" Molly asked.
  When he looked over and saw the look of concern beneath those page boy locks, he felt sad that she wasn't crying. This was the moment a girl in love should cry over.