“My Mom was a good lady. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. ” “You are sure that he asked for me—not for Annabel?” “Certain,” Courtlaw answered. ” A momentary bitterness crept into Anna’s tone. “Don’t we all rather humbug about the coarseness? All we women, I mean,” said she. Her family had hosted a feast in his honor for which they had taken weeks to prepare: with braised capons and lobster sausages and all sorts of delicious spiced stews her mother had made from secret recipes.
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