The Lost Traveler (1958, 1995)
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The New York Times reviewer called it "an unflinchingly honest picture of a wandering gambler and his family." The reviewer for the Manchester Evening News (England) wrote: "This is a full and rich book which captures brilliantly the welter of human emotions that such a situation inevitably generates." "Each of the characters," declared Robert R. Kirsch in the Los Angeles Times, "is drawn with depth and understanding which are the greatest values of the book."
An excerpt from The Lost Traveler (pp. 268-269):
Robin pulled the clothes down with her. They cushioned the floor where she lay, crumpled, half-sitting, with awareness receding. Blood ran warmly from her nose over her mouth and fell upon the dresses. A monstrous blow came out of the dusk against her ribs, and the breath went out of her lungs like a blade. There was another blow and another. Des was kicking her with his bare feet, but she could no longer resist. His tall, strong body in white summer underwear shone clear for a moment and faded. A hoarse, unnatural voice was signaling through the dark monotonously. She tried to pull herself up from a paralyzing dream. Other voices embroidered the distance, a woman's sobbing punctuated with effort, a girl's screaming—dry, repetitious, shrill. A flash of spare, pure knowledge lighted her mind; he meant to kill her. Incredible strength sprang from her fear; she rose on powerful, instinctive wings of light into the small, closed room, surprising, striking, eluding him, fierce in her desperation, reaching the dresser, pulling out the drawer. She swung round, facing him as he reached for her; she held the revolver with both hands.