We have played at a little mild lovemaking again. She had told him, point blank, that since the Church had neither annulled the first marriage nor sanctified the second one, she was not his wife. She married my Dad in a small ceremony down at City Hall. It rained heavily all day, so he did not stir forth. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. And sometimes he overflowed with a peculiarly malignant wit that played, with devastating effect, upon any topics that had the courage to face it. I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me. “It is hard to express one’s self, but I do want to be honest with you. If he was asleep, then she much regretted that she must wake him up. ‘Courage,’ urged her spouse. It’s obvious you have eyes for someone else. The point is, Spurlock was coming along: queerly, by his own imagination. Spurlock has gone.
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