After the wedding they went straight to DeJong’s house. In May the vegetable farmer cannot neglect his garden even for a day. The house had been made ready for them. The sway of the old housekeeper was over. Her kitchen bedroom was empty.
Throughout the supper Selina had had thoughts which were so foolish and detached as almost to alarm her.
“‘Now I am married. I am Mrs. Pervus DeJong. That’s a pretty name. It would look quite distinguished on a calling card, very spidery and fine:
She recalled this later, grimly, when she was Mrs. Pervus DeJong, at home not only Fridays, but Saturdays, Sundays, Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays.
They drove down the road to DeJong’s place. Selina thought, “Now I am driving home with my husband. I feel his shoulder against mine. I wish he
