“Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. The last observation, however, caught the attention of the carpenter's wife. Their subsequent conversation is outside the scope of our story. Always the other things remained. And if I don’t, I go mad. “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. He kissed her lightly on the lips. She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead. ” “For the others,” Annabel said tearfully, “that is well enough. His treatment of his wife is most unsatisfactory.
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