Chapter 2: Plant response to elevated CO2 - DRUM - University of ...

eat on time, she would sleep on time she promised herself, but could she change
her husband’s attitude to her, could she go back and change her hospital routine?
She sank a little deeper into the sofa.
The morning was cold and wet and the sky had been forged gray. A
delicate and slim needle like rain prattled on the tile roof of the terrace since
dawn. It was a dull, monotonous sort of rain – it didn’t change in intensity or
direction just kept pattering straight and pointed. On and on. The sky was a
glum gray, as bored of the rain as Mrs. Mehta. With her husband gone, the house
had fallen into the quiet monotonous hum of late morning. The dhobi had come
and gone (one saree had been missing) and it would be sometime before Suman
rang her patented three ring bell. This was hardly what one would expect on
one’s birthday Mrs. Mehta thought to herself, mulling over the unfairness of
everything, sitting on the Rexene sofa looking over at the yellow roses in her
terrace garden. At least the roses looked happy, she thought, looking at the drops
glistening on the petals of a yellow bud.
Of course Varun and Usha had called. In fact she was pleased that Varun
called at midnight, of course her children remembered her birthdays – they
called every year. Of course, she could understand that they couldn’t fly down
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