“But now———?” he prompted.
She brushed her tears away with pitiful defiance. “I want to be a woman—to be everything in some man's life.”
“Perhaps you are in his, but he doesn't show it.”
She seemed to listen for laughter. Then, “No,” she said. “When I try to be a woman, I play Satan to him.”
“And that's the wall?”
“Not all of it. There's Santa.”
In the swift march of his emotions he had almost forgotten Santa. As though she had been drowning and he had turned back from rescuing her, the mention of her name stung him with reproach.
“What of Santa?” he asked in a low voice.
VI
She's in love with my husband.”