“You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. ‘Couldn’t reconcile it with my dooty to leave you here—’ A thought made Melusine stop dead, turning to him. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. He must be gone to dispose of the body. You simply can't get good oil down there, so I must husband the few drams I carry. ‘I am sure you will. " Her son complied, and sat down upon the patch-work coverlet beside her. There must be ways of getting rid of him. You might tell the truth to some men, but never to him. At once. Why should you wish to forget it? Unless it is that you did not enjoy it. ’ She struggled. And lunged once more.
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