Julian looked at her with an expression she had never seen before—soft, almost tender. It was disgusting.
Laura read the letter twice. Then she smiled—a small, sharp smile that Egbert would have recognized as the prelude to something regrettable. laura by saki pdf
That afternoon, she attended the general's funeral. It was a splendid affair, with a military band playing something suitably somber and a clergyman whose voice trembled with a professional sorrow that Laura found deeply soothing. She stood near a yew tree, pretending to dab her eyes with a handkerchief that smelled of lavender, and studied the other mourners. Julian looked at her with an expression she
"Love," she repeated, as though he had suggested installing a maypole in the drawing room. "Love is for people who have not discovered the pleasure of a well-attended inquest. Love is for the sort of people who send flowers to hospitals. Julian, I married you because you hated the same things I hated. If you start loving things, you will become indistinguishable from the common herd of humanity, and I shall have to divorce you." Then she smiled—a small, sharp smile that Egbert