"The sound of a jumprope came around in her head, softly, steadily marking time. Steadily slapping ground packed hard by the feet of girls. Franklin's in the White House. Jump/Slap. Talking to the ladies. Jump/Slap. Eleanor's in the outhouse. Jump/Slap. Eating chocolate babies. Jump/Slap. Noises of a long drawn-out summer's evening years ago. But painted in such rich tones she could touch it."