“You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him. She looked up quickly. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. ” She looked around for the voice around the Orchestra room, fumbling around with her books. ” She gave herself permission now to look at this squarely. "Otherwise you will not get your morning's sleep. “You did your best to kill me,” he said. You cannot—shall not retreat. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. You do not love your husband, you have married him for a position —to escape from—things which you feared. A species of vertigo seized him.
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