And I’m off to America, and if my steamer goes to the bottom of the Atlantic I’ll thank the Lord for it. A tall elegantly dressed woman, followed by a maid, came down the broad staircase. She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season. We dine at seven-thirty. And he, her lawful husband, dared not go to her and console her! Accursed—all of them— Enschede, Ruth, and himself. “Why should it matter?” he said. 126 Lucy drank them as the first rays of watery sunlight seeped through the mullioned windows, then put their husks in the claw-footed bathtub.
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