“I had an idea that maybe she was hungry,” Tish said quietly.
We did not feed Teddy the next morning, but we weighed him when he followed the breakfast tray to Emmie’s room. And when he came down, having supposedly eaten all of Emmie’s breakfast, he had lost two ounces!
Tish gazed at the scales angrily.
“As I thought!” she observed. “And that poor devil of a husband hasn’t probably been out of this house at night for five years, or had a sock darned in ten! If he had any sense he’d take up with another woman.”
“Why, Tish!” said Aggie, aghast.
“If there’s anything more immoral than that woman lying up there in bed and taking everything Will gives her and giving nothing back, I haven’t heard of it.”
“She’s his wife.”
“She’s not his wife,” said Tish. “She’s a cancer, that’s what she is. Cancers thrive, but the people who have ’em die. And he’s got her.”