Grudgingly he admired her. The kindly American consul-general had himself taken her to the bank, where her banknotes had been exchanged for a letter of credit, and had thoroughly advised her. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. “Shot through the lungs,” he remarked. “Women should understand men’s affairs, perhaps,” said Miss Garvice, “but to mingle in them is just to sacrifice that power of influencing they can exercise now. They are arbitrary and unjust and dogmatic and brutish and lustful. “Was that before or after you became a vampire?” Michelle questioned her casually, as if it were an interview. Lucy looked down, noticing that Michelle had left her shoes in the entryway.
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