” 74 She hung up the phone. Anna hailed a bus. Melusine sighed with frustration. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. Bird, the turner, to give him an order this evening. Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. Each time a daughter had been born to him he had concealed his chagrin with great tenderness and effusion from his wife, and had sworn unwontedly and with passionate sincerity in the bathroom. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. ’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. ‘Both of them so wise after the event.
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