As Marash Girl approached her automobile late that wintery night, she sighed; there she was, wedged in by two brand new autos . . . one inch to spare at each end. An initial panic set in, calmed by the memory of her father's assurances.
"If the space in which you're trying to park your car is only one inch longer than your car, you can make it."
"Well," Marash Girl muttered to herself, "if I can make it in with only one inch to spare, I should be able to make it out, right, Dad?"
Gamatz, gamatz; little by little; inch by inch . . . Marash Girl tried to extricate her automobile one inch to spare on each end, roadways and walkways covered with snow and ice, 20 degrees F with a wind, at 10 o'clock at night . . . back and forth, back and forth, back and forth . . . and she was out!