and his dog—my dog, I should say, Hector the fourth — yes Gerhardt stays there tending his vines, his cucumbers and his marrows, which cross-pollinate ... don't ask me how ... he just places them side by side next to each other and somehow they cohabit ... they breed ... the saffron pollen wends its way to the opposite sex and ... they propagate.
He rarely falls in love ... three times to my once and a half. A scandal occurred in his chambers in the Four Courts ... one morning a junior happened to come in with a mound of papers and the secretary, a Miss O'Hanlaoin, was where she should not be and engaged in some hanky-panky ... fortunately it was hushed up ... he did not feature half-naked in a tabloid with his braces down, and moreover the junior was quite discreet, quite sterling. The overweening secretary not so. I found her notes in his pockets — demanding a showdown with me. Ooh la la la. It taught him a lesson. "I will never leave you Millie ... I will never leave you" was what he said. We went on a cruise for a reconciliation ... some of the wives had at least twelve changes of attire ... and the jewelry, so ostentatious, so unnecessary ...we sat at the captain's table. I did get tiddly once or twice ... the high heels and the ship's swaying did not help matters. When we docked for two days in a strange port, my husband played with children on the beach ...a ball game—he and they tossed and kicked an orange ball ... strangers' children ... dusk-colored children ... certainly not white children, and they loved him. You see he has this aura—it emanates from him—by which people fall in love with him. They were seen—the buxom girl, the hussy, who has just left your caravan — they were seen one evening of late out on the lake and were caught in a squall ... had to take shelter ... something I learnt as one does through the offices of a best friend. It was when Dido and Aeneas took shelter that the fateful arrow of love struck. I do have one card up my sleeve, the most powerful card in the pack. One of our national poets, one of the triptych of Greats, has said that a young wife's, or for that matter, a young convent girl's trump card is the young cunt .. .but an older wife has a more powerful card ... a darker card ... one that we must not speak of. Are you with me, good lady? ... Comprende? I see you also do the tarot cards as well as the crystal ... I am familiar with some ... the Hanged Man ... La Tour ... Temperance ... the Scales of Justice. That hussy has no right to our gooseberries ... none whatsoever ... our apples ... our crab apples ... our pippins ... our pears ... our marrows ... our redcur-rants ... our blackcurrants ... our loganberries ... our quinces ... our greengages ... our sugar plums ... our meddlers ... our strawberries ... our hops ... ourvines ... our root vegetables ... our harvests. Please, please. Open your door to me. I won't ask too much. I realize that it is a matter of some delicacy, of some discretion on your part ... the Hippocratic oath or something akin to the priest in the confessional ...you are bound to secrecy ... all I ask is this. Being as you are a seer, what did you see? Have they gone in deep? By that I mean ... you know what I mean. He's not old enough to be her father. .. he's old enough to be her grandfather. . .it is preposterous . ..i t is absurd . ..i t is, unthinkable . ..S think of Dido ... I think of confit of duck in the fridge, since Sunday ... I think of my husband's opal eyes and the card he wrote me last Christmas ... "twenty-two years and still my Queen" ... I think I think I think. Good lady, open up ... open your door ... open your curtain ... open it now ... I cannot wait a second longer . ..do you understand ... these louts are looking at me ... they're laughing at me ... the wild ponies are galloping ... raising the dry dust in swarms. You are there. I know. I know it. I feel your presence in the nonrustle of the thick, dark-red lined
He rarely falls in love ... three times to my once and a half. A scandal occurred in his chambers in the Four Courts ... one morning a junior happened to come in with a mound of papers and the secretary, a Miss O'Hanlaoin, was where she should not be and engaged in some hanky-panky ... fortunately it was hushed up ... he did not feature half-naked in a tabloid with his braces down, and moreover the junior was quite discreet, quite sterling. The overweening secretary not so. I found her notes in his pockets — demanding a showdown with me. Ooh la la la. It taught him a lesson. "I will never leave you Millie ... I will never leave you" was what he said. We went on a cruise for a reconciliation ... some of the wives had at least twelve changes of attire ... and the jewelry, so ostentatious, so unnecessary ...we sat at the captain's table. I did get tiddly once or twice ... the high heels and the ship's swaying did not help matters. When we docked for two days in a strange port, my husband played with children on the beach ...a ball game—he and they tossed and kicked an orange ball ... strangers' children ... dusk-colored children ... certainly not white children, and they loved him. You see he has this aura—it emanates from him—by which people fall in love with him. They were seen—the buxom girl, the hussy, who has just left your caravan — they were seen one evening of late out on the lake and were caught in a squall ... had to take shelter ... something I learnt as one does through the offices of a best friend. It was when Dido and Aeneas took shelter that the fateful arrow of love struck. I do have one card up my sleeve, the most powerful card in the pack. One of our national poets, one of the triptych of Greats, has said that a young wife's, or for that matter, a young convent girl's trump card is the young cunt .. .but an older wife has a more powerful card ... a darker card ... one that we must not speak of. Are you with me, good lady? ... Comprende? I see you also do the tarot cards as well as the crystal ... I am familiar with some ... the Hanged Man ... La Tour ... Temperance ... the Scales of Justice. That hussy has no right to our gooseberries ... none whatsoever ... our apples ... our crab apples ... our pippins ... our pears ... our marrows ... our redcur-rants ... our blackcurrants ... our loganberries ... our quinces ... our greengages ... our sugar plums ... our meddlers ... our strawberries ... our hops ... ourvines ... our root vegetables ... our harvests. Please, please. Open your door to me. I won't ask too much. I realize that it is a matter of some delicacy, of some discretion on your part ... the Hippocratic oath or something akin to the priest in the confessional ...you are bound to secrecy ... all I ask is this. Being as you are a seer, what did you see? Have they gone in deep? By that I mean ... you know what I mean. He's not old enough to be her father. .. he's old enough to be her grandfather. . .it is preposterous . ..i t is absurd . ..i t is, unthinkable . ..S think of Dido ... I think of confit of duck in the fridge, since Sunday ... I think of my husband's opal eyes and the card he wrote me last Christmas ... "twenty-two years and still my Queen" ... I think I think I think. Good lady, open up ... open your door ... open your curtain ... open it now ... I cannot wait a second longer . ..do you understand ... these louts are looking at me ... they're laughing at me ... the wild ponies are galloping ... raising the dry dust in swarms. You are there. I know. I know it. I feel your presence in the nonrustle of the thick, dark-red lined
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