I believed that our marriage was genuine. “Is this hansom for me?” she said. In a few seconds, the shutter flew open,—then the window,—and they were in the room. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. Oddly, Sebastian chose to be charioteer. She smiled encouragingly, laying aside her plate and turning her chair from the table. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce.
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