70 <9> A MARRIAGE, PART II She dreamt of the inn they had stopped at after her suicide attempt, the flea-ridden hostel her husband had angrily toted her to after the incident at the country house. Lonesomeness isn't my worry. ” “How the hell did you learn to play like that?” “Lots of practice, John. The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper. His legs were fine and strong, he told her that he had been a warrior in ancient times, to which she snorted in disgust. G'night, kids. I wish to prevent a repetition of any such errand as I presume you have come here upon this evening.
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