“Do about what? Sasha, you have to tell me. If something happens to you—”

“If something happens to me, you clam up. Do you hear me? You don’t know a thing. Nothing ever happened, you never noticed anything, saw anything, you’re just the nice dumb housewife they think you are.”

Iris sat up. “How dare you. How dare you. If I am—if I am just a housewife—it’s because of you, because I’ve given up everything I dreamed of doing, all for your sake. Ruth was right—”

Sasha sat up too and clamped his hand over her mouth. “Christ, shut up! The neighbors!”

“I don’t care!” She snatched his palm away, but when she spoke again, she whispered. “I haven’t drawn a single thing since Jack was born. Not a sketch or a painting. When was the last time I spent the afternoon in a museum? By myself, I mean, actually looking at what’s on the walls instead of chasing after children? I’ve given it all up for you and the boys.”

“You’re the one who wanted another baby.”

Iris felt as if he’d struck her between the ribs. For a moment, she couldn’t even breathe.

“Iris, I’m sorry—”

“Never mind. You know what? Never mind. Go ahead and—and do your cloak-and-dagger act, if it makes you happy. Go ruin yourself for a lost cause.” She fell back on the pillow and rolled on her side, away from her husband. “I’ll just be home raising our sons.”

“It’s not a lost cause. It’s the most important cause in the world.”

Iris closed her eyes.

“Someone’s got to do this. You don’t understand—I’m working to end war, end all this terrible injustice; look what capitalism’s bought us, the means to destroy the whole world! I want to bring about a revolution that—”

“You want to feel important, that’s all. It doesn’t matter how. Communism is just what fell in your lap at the right moment. It might just as easily have been—I don’t know, Hinduism.”

“If you really think that, you’re an idiot.”

Iris sat up again and pointed to the door. “Go. Go sleep on the sofa.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake—”

“Go.”