Mrs. Vanvilt wanted her husband to assure her that he still cared. She suddenly got up from the bed and began to pace the space between the walls from the head of the bed to its footboard. Charles was puzzled.
The headboard of the ornate king-sized bed suddenly felt like a ten-foot wall standing there looking down with warning. Charles' 6 foot frame was beginning to feel like a miniature of him. Sherry was in a mood that spelt trouble. He slowly moved the covers which he had earlier used as a reliable companion and headed for the rest room. Sherry stopped her pacing. Her eyes followed his every movement. "Where are you going, may I ask, she muttered. "To the rest room my dear," he replied. "Ok !" she responded tersely.
Unknown to his wife, Charles had slipped a novel he had been reading in the pocket of his robe. Half an hour had passed and he continued reading. Sherry thought it strange that he had spent so long in the rest room. She walked up quietly, pressed her ear to the locked door. She heard nothing. She waited for another ten minutes. Charles did not emerge. Mrs. Vanvilt cleared her throat and pretended to be singing some happy songs. Her husband assessed the mood and was uncertain whether to finish his reading He waited for a few moments and them decided it was time to exit the chamber.
He joined his wife in singing some of her songs. Sherry suddenly stopped. Charles continued his singing . Sherry departed the room. Charles scrambled for the bed and pulled the covers over him.
"Whoops!" his covers were disturbed by a strong hurricane that stood over him. Charles let the covers go. He was exposed now to the elements.
To be continued.