The Brilliant Wife, by Alan Beard

She was sticky and gorgeous and a man got his fingers on her at the bar and in the dance they did later. Hard work to get out of the place, they stopped so often. She drove him back, breathing out promise. But her husband was at the door. 'Go on,' she said, standing stern between them, shining in the moonlight and the lamplight. 'Tell him the things you shouted above the music and whispered again later, about my beauty and grace.'