You’ll end up dead, that’s what. He returned her impressive greeting almost mechanically. They had their little dreams about her. “Because I hate you!” She spat. He was always drawing contrasts between a woman’s lot and a man’s, and treating her as a wonderful new departure in this comparison. Meat pies with sweet crust were stuffed with macaroni, steaks of pork and beef were pounded thin and grilled rare, capons had been marinated in plum wine and cinnamon, and veal sausages stewed in cream were served over fine noodles: all the dishes that he loved were present. He kissed her ardently. Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest.
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