“Why should one pretend?” she whispered. I will have nothing to do with you. . You denied it, remembering that I had called myself Anna. There’s always friction, conflict, unwilling concessions. I have been thinking—I will go to my wife again. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. Tell him the truth, Annabel. “I want you so much, Lucy. There was no one stirring in the flats. Tears flowed in rivulets down 121 her cheeks and she began to cry.
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