“He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. Were such a thing to happen again, I'd never let Mr. Mike was draped over the laminate kitchen counter, on the phone as usual. Wait a second. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced. “He just wants to get laid, you know. She did not want to seem to shrink from conversation, but all sorts of odd questions were running through her mind. She listened with dumb fear in her eyes. He read the Times with an unusually passionate intentness, and then declared suddenly for the earlier of the two trains he used.
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