She slipped from the bed's edge to the floor, and stood with her back toward him. Then she glanced sideways at the mirror to inspect her nose.
"Thank goodness that isn't red," she said gaily…. "Kelly, I'm hungry…. I've fasted since dawn—on this day—because I wanted to break bread with you on the first day of our new life together."
He looked at her, appalled, but she laughed and went into the studio.
There was a beautiful old sideboard there always well stocked.
He turned on the lights, brought peaches and melons and strawberries and milk from the ice-chest, and found her already preparing chocolate over the electric grill and buttering immense slices of peasant bread.
"It's after two o'clock," she said, delighted. "Isn't this divinely silly? I wonder if there happens to be any salad in the ice-chest?"
"Cold chicken, too," he nodded, watching her set the table.
She glanced at him over her shoulder from time to time:
"Louis, are you going to enjoy all this? All of it?
You—somehow—don't look entirely happy—"
"I am…. All I wanted was to see you—hear your voice…. I shall be contented now."
"With just a view of me, and the sound of my voice?"