She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis. She addresses you as the Flower of the Lotus, as the Resplendent Moonbeam. “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. ‘Housebreaking, Hilary? I take the matter of housebreaking very seriously, I’ll have you know. “Not at all. All this while he was arranging the medicines on the stand and jotting down his instructions on a chart sheet. The condition of the rooms was indescribably filthy and disgusting; nor were the habits of the occupants much more cleanly. Frequently she would doze in her chair; but the slightest movement on the bed aroused her. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies.
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