Her husband quickly joined the fray, making her giggle and laugh. shouldn’t be friends. ” He referred to a sheet of paper by his side. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. She padded up the stairs to the bedroom, finding that her sheets had been changed with a fresh pillow case to welcome her weary head. Its importance had vanished with her abandonment of compromise. As concertmaster, it was Lucy’s duty to seat the orchestra as well as tune them. She looked and felt like a fairy princess. ” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife.
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