“Then, sighing, he made a few phone calls. As he was setting the phone down, the intercom buzzed. It was Michelin. ‘Your supper’s all ready, Clem. And I’m just off out.’ ‘Got another party?’ ‘Yes, another party …’ ‘Oh, well, enjoy yourself.’ He went downstairs slowly, dragging his steps so that anyone observing him might imagine there was something weighty on his mind. Downstairs, where the temperature was cooler, Sheila was in the conservatory pouring herself another glass of white wine. ‘Where...’s your glass?’ ‘Oh, I left it on my desk upstairs.’ ‘Doesn’t matter. I’ll get another. It’s so hot, Michelin has laid a table outside by the pool for us. She’s just gone.’ ‘Another party …’ ‘Good drinking evening.’ She was pouring wine slowly into the glass she had taken from the cabinet, letting the neck of the bottle chink once against the rim of the glass to emphasize the benefaction of what she was doing. It seemed to him, watching her, that her strong nose was slightly less sharp this evening, as if a certain watchfulness, apparent in her manner during their time in the States, had now relaxed.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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