The Man Who Loved His Wife Read Online Free PDF

for me. At twenty-five cents an hour.”
    â€œYou haven’t spoiled the house either.”
    The stranger’s compliment pleased her. Elaine valued mellowness and texture, thought the Mexican farmhouse architecture perfectly suited to the climate. The neighbors were always remodeling their houses, turning Tudor mansions into French chateaux, Cape Cod cottages into ranch houses with picture windows. Dazzling white stones and marble pillars transformed Mediterranean villas into buildings like funeral homes, and California bungalows were capped with mansard roofs. “Abortions,” said the visitor as they walked the paths he had laid.
    â€œWhy don’t we sit down?”
    â€œI don’t want to keep you from anything.”
    â€œI wasn’t doing anything in particular, just transplanting irises.”
    â€œIt’s the wrong season,” he said, and he held a chair for her. He asked her name, learned that she was married, that her husband was retired and generally at home, but always went out on Thursday afternoons. “That’s my free day, too,” he said. “I do my hospital rounds in the morning but unless there’s an emergency or necessary house calls, I try to keep Thursday afternoons for myself. Usually there are emergencies and necessary house calls. By the way, I’m Ralph Julian.”
    They shook hands formally. Elaine listened edgily for the sound of her husband’s car. Dr. Julian’s visit would not be hard to explain, but there would inevitably be taut moments when the introduction would have to be acknowledged and Fletcher suffered the exposure of his infirmity. Just the same, Elaine was enjoying the unexpected visit and asked the guest if he would like to see how she had done the inside of the house.
    He liked her furniture and hangings, noted the crammed bookshelves in the room which had been his foster-father’s library and enjoyed, after proper protest about not wanting to bother her, a cup of tea. Elaine said she always made tea for herself in the afternoon, and he said it was like old times with Aunt Cora pouring Tibetan tea and serving cookies on a silver plate.
    After he had gone and she had put the tea things in the dishwasher, she bathed and dressed in a bright hostess gown to greet her husband. She told him all about the visit of Dr. Ralph Julian who had grown up in this house as the son of Dr. Harry and Mrs. Cora Julian, who had adopted him after their son had drowned in the swimming pool. “When he came to live here he was eight and this seemed the most beautiful place in the world. He’s sentimental about it.”
    Sentiment brought Dr. Julian back after two weeks. He brought bulbs of a new tuberous begonia for the shade garden which he still considered his foster-mother’s. Elaine happened to have baked chocolate brownies that morning. Once more the spirit of Aunt Cora joined them. Eulogies were devoted to hercooking. Ralph had her recipe books somewhere in his apartment and promised to look for them. The next week he brought the books, which Elaine refused to keep since his future wife (on the second visit she had discovered that he was a bachelor) would surely want them. All week she copied out recipes and on the following Thursday tried her hand at macaroons. Fruitlessly. It was three weeks before he turned up to collect the cookbooks. There were no explanations as there were no formal dates. He came or did not. Elaine bought three new summer dresses and two pairs of bright slacks.
    It was inevitable that her husband would meet the new friend. Ralph had been prepared for the maimed voice and showed neither the layman’s offensive tact nor a doctor’s clinical interest. When the subject was brought up . . . by Fletcher himself . . . Ralph praised the Los Angeles specialist recommended by Fletcher’s doctor in New York.
    A few weeks after this Elaine had become ill with the flu. Fletcher’s specialist was