’ ‘I see now how it was that Marthe knew of the secret passage,’ Melusine said. For so far she had kept it uncashed. “Because I know for a fact that she was having sex with Gary Rothko during homecoming Freshman year and she let him pork her up the ass. “Eight, Cavendish Square. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. “I’m d——d if I understand this,” he said thoughtfully. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us.
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