“You love some one else?” he repeated. He turned, expecting to see his wife. “I wrote it for you. “Good-bye, John,” she said simply. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. She didn’t trust Gianfrancesco, you know, she called him a ‘bad husband’. His car, a black Alfa Romeo, waited at the end of the subdivision. If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. \" They talked until midnight most nights. "Do you know what you are talking about, Mrs. “No, no, no. “Yes, John.
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