” He closed the door partially behind himself. Anna did not pause, but she looked over her shoulder with slightly lifted eyebrows. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. I do wish you could come and dine with us some evening. Practically it was most of the chief interests in life that she proposed to settle in this pedestrian meditation. “Does he live here?” he asked her presently.
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