It was there in the breast pocket, stiff and legal looking. ‘And what the devil do you mean by demanding that I wait on you here? D’you think I haven’t enough to do handling that caper-witted female’s affairs, without dancing attendance on you?’ ‘Don’t be cross,’ begged Lucilla, much to Melusine’s disgust. Anna merely glanced at the coarse, flushed features, and at once shook her head. She closed her eyes, discerning the divinations he had been up to during her violin concert. The sky was dripping a wet, slow rain that had forced the city’s inhabitants into taxicabs and dingy cafeterias, the day wholly ruined for all except the insane schizophrenics and her. She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself. It was no use.
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