"I'm not jealous," Peggy told herself as she
watched her husband across the breakfast table.
Repeating the phrase was like applying a Band-Aid
to a broken leg. Nonetheless, "I'm not jealous,"
she thought.

      Hector ate a muffin rapidly. His gaze
boomeranged from the restaurant hostess to the
waitress to a herd of freshly-awoken hotel guests at
the door. Peggy had noticed, when the two of them
had entered the dining room, a number of women
more attractive than she. Hector doubtless made the
same observation. He made no effort, now, to hide an
air of feasting that had nothing to do with his muffin.


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