Michael Malone - Weebly

His property was to have been his baby. Judith and he
had none. She had been relieved when they were told
their barrenness was her fault, not his. Even so, he was
baffled and unhappy and angry at this latest act of God.
Still, he loved his wife, Judith, though he didn't know
her well. He'd always secretly thought that she'd be a
perfect wife for a state assemblyman, even for a
congressional candidate. It was not merely her beauty
that impressed him. She had a dignity and reserve that
awed him. While it cost him comfort, ease, and even—
on the rare occasions when he pushed against it—
frightened him, he took pride in her distance. Her
distaste for sex he took to be evidence of her spiritual
superiority; Judith had, after all, been raised by the holy
Sisters.
Her passive remoteness in bed assured him of her
purity, fidelity, and indeed enhanced her desirability. So
whenever Haig pictured his wife to himself he imagined
her not in any intimacy, but seated, her hands folded, on
a dais next to the podium from which he was addressing
his constituents. Only rarely did the guilty fantasy intrude
in which his wife, sometimes dressed as a nun, was the