A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. She held up the lamp. ‘Ah, Madame Joan. Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked. ‘And I suppose I shall be obliged to endure another nonsensical tale about your husband. " "There, now! You mustn't get mixed. " "Uh-huh. ” “It came,” he said. "My friends need not fear my return. .
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