The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace. A moment before, the surface of the stream was black as ink. “So I see that you have become content with your hardscrabble existence, your week-to-week survival, your Martin Chen!” “Who?” “Your limp-wristed lover!” “Um. She tried to think what she should do in this eventuality or that. John’s demeanor shifted. He would have to probe further. “Have you ever seen Annabel with him?” she asked. Afterwards we started for déjeuner in a motor.
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