He halted and put out a hand to stop Hilary. When she released him he ran down the beach for a stick which he fetched and laid at her feet. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. She found pieces of it on the blacktop near the green dumpster, amazingly small pieces considering the fabric’s original heft. She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face. He reached a silver cigar and cigarette box from the sideboard and put it before his father-in-law, and for a time the preliminaries of smoking occupied them both. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. The man looked as though he would have liked to deny it, but could not. “Smirched!. A knot of three policemen in conflict with her staggered toward Ann Veronica’s attendants and distracted their attention.
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