“Damn right you did. And you saw what it got you. You’re lucky it didn’t get you a broken jaw.”
She looked at him. “I’m still here, if you feel like slugging me.”
“It ain’t worth the effort,” he said. Then he braced himself, expecting that she’d leap at him with clawing fingernails.
For some moments she didn’t move. Then very slowly she got up from the floor. She walked across the room, picked up a robe, and put it on. He watched her as she reached into a pocket, took out a pack of cigarettes and a book of matches. Her voice was oddly matter-of-fact as she said, “Want one?”
He shook his head. Her eyes were blank, puzzled.
She was lighting a cigarette. “You sure you don’t want one?”
He breathed hard. “Only thing I want from you is a definite understanding. From here on in you’re gonna leave me alone. You’ll hafta get it through your head I’m a married man.”
“By the way,” she murmured casually, “where is she?”
He blinked a few times.
She took a slow easy drag at the cigarette. “Well?” She watched the smoke drifting away from her lips. “Come on, tell me. Where’s the bride?”