Stanley, having pretended to linger to smoke, fled suddenly up-stairs to petrography, and when Veronica tapped he answered through the locked door, “Go away, Vee! I’m busy,” and made a lapidary’s wheel buzz loudly. He was ruffled, and his ears were red, no doubt from some adjacent controversy. I’m starving. The preparations to meet him were immense, roses were planted everywhere, white and drooping with honeyed fragrance. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. If Ray left the house, it would be easy.
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