"They were very different," Rose said, and it was true, although Felix had also been tall and clever and charming. She smiled as she thought of her dead husband, who had a tendency to push his reading glasses up his nose when he was thinking, and who had more than once made love to her on the floor of his greenhouse.

"But you - Ustinya," Rose said. A blush colored her cheeks. "You are asking me of when a man visits his wife at night, are you not?"

Perhaps asking directly would shame Ustinya into silence; or perhaps this conversation would continue.

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