“Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked. ’ The sergeant’s air became positively avuncular. I studied violin with a teacher when I was younger,” she said. ” “Of course I am. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. He took her there on the cold, dirty floor, his nails digging into her back, his teeth sinking into her breasts. " "No doubt," he replied.
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