” “Well, you can’t say you’re a failure there,” Lady Lescelles remarked, smiling. Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. Nevertheless though nearly six feet high, and correspondingly proportioned, she was a model of symmetry, and boasted, with the frame of a Thalestris or a Trulla, the regular lineaments of the Medicean Venus. But you! Why the devil did you marry her? That's the thing that confounds me. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other. " CHAPTER XIX.
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