Sisters and Strangers [antikvár]

Chapter 1 Lam*a's first thought when she awakened in the darkness of that pre-dawn October morning was that in two days she'd celebrate fifty years of marriage to Sam Dal-ton. Fifty years. Half a century. Five decades with the same man. Perhaps she'd make a little speech about that at the party. 'Two score and ten years ago we brought forth upon this community a marriage created by convention, conceived in monotony and dedicated to the proposition that all wedlock is enchained and unequal.' She smiled, imagining how they'd all look at her if she said such a thing. Sam would think she'd taken leave of her senses. Her daughters would be shocked. No. Barbara and Alice would be shocked. Frances probably would think it was funny. The relatives would not understand. And the friends would feel embarrassed, as though she'd taken off her clothes in public. Of them all, Sam would be closest to the truth. Sometimes she thought she was going crazy. Proper Laura Dalton, perfect wife and home-maker, pillar of the church, past-matron of The Eastern Star, mother of three, sm-vivor of domestic disasters, keeper of the peace, tender of the flame of fidelity for fifty years. I have everything in the world to be grateful for, she told herself sternly. A paid-for house. Good health. A dependable, provident husband snoring beside me. I'm seventy years 9