62 <8> A FIRST DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER The weekend began for her with that luxury of all luxuries, sleep. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. He saw her young and graceful back as she descended from the carriage, severely ignoring him, and recalled a glimpse he had of her face, bright and serene, as his train ran out of Wimbledon. If all wives were of my mind and my spirit, husbands would soon be taught their own insignificance. Nothing to do; nothing for the hands, the mind, the heart. "But don't ever let me see them again.
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