" "But a man may love his wife!" cried Spurlock, utterly bewildered. Always as black and bitter as gall. So it does. "So I did," retorted Mrs. Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. ” Annabel laughed hardly. Funk! I’ll see it out. She pocketed the sum total of his ready cash, about fortyeight dollars. He occupied one of the smaller houses near the station. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. I dare say anything seemed better to her than the nun’s habit she had been obliged to use. The beautiful city that she had been awed by and even grown to love had been abandoned.
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