"You have lived over here?"—astonished. “If only I could afford another!” she thought regretfully. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. Running his hand hastily over it, he was startled to find it one complicated mass of bolts and bars. He is the one who has said that she must go to the convent. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. Or, if this goodlooking young fellow will only say the word, I'll go with him. ‘Gabbling and muttering in a foreign tongue, that’s what I heard, sir,’ had declared the gap-toothed ancient, when he told them of the initial foray he had made, sneaking around the house in the dark. He helped himself to a beer, then a vodka and tonic, then two rum and Cokes. She 191 picked up the remote, usurping it of its dividing status between their bodies.
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