"I--" She bit her tongue. She would not get mad.
He wagged his head. "I'll peruse Brendel's books. Fine collection for a
young man, books."
Gritting her teeth, she hurtled back to the dress.
* * * * *
The collectors rang every five minutes after that. They kept ringing
until she went and told them Ferren would not come out.
It wasn't the way she had imagined it would be when she was married.
What with punching Brendel's meals, sending out his clothes, going
collecting with him and quarreling, she hardly had a minute. And the
same stupid people, Elka, Ferren, her mother and father, were always
there.
The bell rang. Her father scowled, seeing Ferren on Brendel's best
sitshelf. "Where?" he said grimly.
"Mexico," she said.
"Pottery," he said, going.