“You have a boyfriend! That’s fine by me, it’s your business, but you’d better stop sneaking around because Sheila’s got eyes in the back of her head!” He heard Sheila utter a loud percussive blast of a snore from the master bedroom. “I cannot conceive,” he said, “how any other occupation could ever have occurred to you. Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles. “It really is not necessary. Not MY affair. I've no doubt he's as honest as either of you. Retribution has a queer way of acting sometimes. You might have spared yourself many useless journeys and disappointments, and us a good deal of anxiety. "Right to a farthing. Or run me through. You cannot depart hence.
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