It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. Anna was afterwards astonished at her own selfpossession. She looked at the white ankle socks on her feet and was reminded simultaneously of her pajama outfit and the suitcase that still lay underneath the bed. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe. ’ ‘Don’t be a little fool,’ Gerald snapped irritably. ” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife.
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