Lilian watched him as she had watched him play curling in the first years they were married, arching forward and holding his position while he watched how far the stone got, though now she watched him through the narrow hall windows move slowly up and down the front steps. She would feel relieved or worried, depending on Gilbert’s mood, and felt this was a sign of her love. Since he was a man, with the freedom to act, she watched to see what choices he would make, since his choices would determine her life. Not only did she not think of making certain choices herself, she was completely unaware of having the desire to do so.

Lilian assumed that the reason Gilbert had seemed more troubled lately had to do with his job, that he was thinking of leaving it. Sometimes, before his glass of Scotch, she noticed an ashen color across his cheeks. When they went out to dine he would give Lilian the signal to leave — a finger across his throat — before dessert was even served.

It was 1929 and their friends were prospering. The Iveses had just bought a new yacht and were spending the summer on it. The Vernons had moved into a larger house and the Wiggins were putting a greenhouse on their place in Beverly Farms.

Usually Lilian made sure to see one of her lady friends for a morning visit or tea, something away from the house and children, but one day she noticed as she got ready for bed that she’d not found the time. It occurred to her that she’d not made time the day before either.

The next day, while the children were napping, Lilian went to the sewing room to get a lamp which needed repairing and heard Anna and Maureen down at their end of the hall chatting and laughing girlishly. When her footsteps on the bare threshold reached them, they stopped. Lilian felt oddly uncomfortable in her own house.