Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. “But I am your husband,” he said. She was enchanted by the beauty of the other girls, who were magically transformed into fairies and elves by makeup into seemingly unfamiliar yet glamorous new people. I am having them to my own soirée on Monday. She had eaten little or no tea, and her mid-day meal had been worse than nothing. Not even, it seemed, this interfering monsieur le major. Russell trouble, a good lot of trouble. She crept out of the shadows.
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