Laurence had managed to extricate herself from the threesome, and was presently collecting her bag.
"She" Greta said, "is having an affair with my husband."
"I know," Jean-Pierre said indifferently.
"You knew?"
"No, I said I know. She just told me now. She was so upset that she stopped off to tell me she wasn't going to take her lesson this evening, because of what happened at the restaurant."
"And she'll be leaving, right now," Greta said.
"I was just going," Laurence said with a show of dignity.
"I've had enough of your face for one day," Greta said, edging toward her.
"The feeling is mutual, Mrs. Locke," Laurence replied with a smirk. Then, "I must say, after finally meeting you in person, I can stop feeling guilty about my relationship with Matthew." She brushed a long wayward lock of hair from her face. "You, madam, and I use the term generously, are a quintessential bitch."
Greta's mouth gaped. "You little tramp!" She lunged for
Laurence's throat.