She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. If they had any idea the concerts he had seen, they would have known the quality of her playing. 70 <9> A MARRIAGE, PART II She dreamt of the inn they had stopped at after her suicide attempt, the flea-ridden hostel her husband had angrily toted her to after the incident at the country house. Only it was with a further and most unbelieving shrug of the shoulders that he resumed his seat. " "Mine is Howard Spurlock. Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. The only thing that was louder to her was the beating of his heart. Her breath came fast in little sobbing pants. Painting is only one slender branch of the great tree.
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