Sir John felt and looked several years younger. ‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. She knew his appetite from many a homemade dinner and knew also that he had taken Bitch Vorsack’s comments to heart. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. There was a great splash of blood upon it, her hand was all wet and sticky. “Am I dull?” she said. She began to think persistently of Capes, and it seemed to her now that for some weeks at least she must have been thinking persistently of him unawares. Lucy entered and Mike followed.
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