” She replied. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. Our heads swim with the thought of being together. One cannot successfully argue with a drunken man. ’ He scratched his chin as if he thought about it, but covertly kept a careful study of what he could see of her face. “Want to see the upstairs?” “Sure. I can’t help you a cent. That was the only sound he heard.
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