At noon, Jeff was seated in a deep armchair in the Pilgrim Club, waiting for Budge to appear, when he heard two men behind him talking.
"She swears that her Italian singer's cock is over ten inches long."
There was a snicker. "Well, Louise always liked them big."
They're talking about another Louise, Jeff told himself.
"That's probably why she married that carnival person in the first place. But she does tell the most amusing stories about him. "You won't believe what he did the other day..."
Jeff rose and blindly made his way out of the club.
He was filled with a rage such as he had never known. He wanted to kill. He wanted to kill the unknown Italian. He wanted to kill Louise. How many other men had she been sleeping with during the past year? They had been laughing at him all this time. Budge and Ed Zeller and Mike Quincy and Alan Thompson and their wives had been having an enormous joke at his expense. And Louise, the woman he had wanted to protect. Jeff's immediate reaction was to pack up and leave. But that was not good enough. He had no intention of letting the bastards have the last laugh.
That afternoon when Jeff arrived home, Louise was not there. "Madame went out this morning," Pickens, the butler, said. "I believe she had several appointments."
I'll bet she did, Jeff thought. She's out ****ing that ten-inch-cock Italian. Jesus Christ!
By the time Louise arrived home, Jeff had himself under tight control. "Did you have a nice day?" Jeff asked.
"Oh, the usual boring things, darling. A beauty appointment, shopping.... How was your day, angel?"
"It was interesting," Jeff said truthfully. "I learned a lot."
"Budge tells me you're doing beautifully."
"I am," Jeff assured her. "And very soon I'm going to be doing even better."
Louise stroked his hand. "My bright husband. Why don't we go to bed early?"
"Not tonight," Jeff said. "I have a headache."
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