Flowers, theatre boxes, carriages, the “open sesame” to the whole world of pleasure. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. God, we suck. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. ’ ‘Married?’ ‘I did mention Madame Valade, did I not?’ At that, a growl of startling ferocity escaped her lips. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. She moved her elbow nearer to him and spoke in a still lower tone. Nothing else weighs against it.
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