The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. Wood trembled. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. “No, don’t interrupt me. He recoiled from the sting. He would be off her case just as soon as his fever for her broke and he found a lover, and she imagined he must have plenty of girls from ritzy families lining up to choose from. But all that could be ascertained in the village was, that a man had ridden off a short time before in the direction of London.
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