She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. That would not help her. She let him take off her skirt as she ritualistically removed his jeans along with his boxers. “Are these ordinary sapphires?” she said. Five hours later she tiptoed down the hall and paused at the threshold of what they now called his study. I have neither father, mother, brother, sister, nor husband—I have only him. I'll tote it myself. She felt his crotch through his jeans. They were childless and servantless, and they had reduced simple living to the finest of fine arts. ‘You were right, miss. ’ ‘What name would you like, then?’ Her shadowed features turned in his direction. “In the event of his death we should require you at once to attend at the inquest.
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