” “Why?” Mr. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. ’ Sheer exasperation made Gerald release her as he broke into reluctant laughter. Mike and Shari sat at the kitchen table eating potato chips. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. “When did you get home last night, Lucy?” Cathy interrogated through a yawn.
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