70 <9> A MARRIAGE, PART II She dreamt of the inn they had stopped at after her suicide attempt, the flea-ridden hostel her husband had angrily toted her to after the incident at the country house. Wood. “I do not know what you mean,” he said, “but if you are referring to any little coolness since our marriage let us never speak of it again. I have no intention of arresting you. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. She surveyed accommodation that seemed at first merely austere, and became more and more manifestly inadequate as the moments fled by. Let us pass, Sir. ’ I wanted, as I have never wanted before, to take you up, to make you mine, to carry you off and set you apart from all the strain and turmoil of life. You want music.
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