Voilà tout. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong. “I’m so glad my Mom’s letting me go out tonight. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. “You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the author. ” He mumbled, driving on. Men ought not to idealize any woman. She dismissed the whole subject with a little shrug of the shoulders.
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