‘Something wrong, madame?’ Her fan came up swiftly, hiding the lower part of her face. ‘I might have killed you,’ she snapped, ‘if only you did not say anything. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. He had been abusing them for a long time when I arrived. It was years before your time. “It does not appear to me,” he said, stiffly, “to be an affair for jests. ’ ‘The nuns?’ she said, gazing at him innocently. He noted the strong white teeth as they snipped the thread. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic.
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