Now how in the world was he to get rid of the husband? His luck was in. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. “Yes. A cup of lies. “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand. ‘I haven’t been so much entertained since I left the Army. “Did you see who that was?” he asked in a low tone. ” But now she doubted again of the quality of the armistice they had just made. That’s— that’s my private life.
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