” She laughed. I waited for her at the back. In each corner stood a stout square post reaching to the ceiling. She felt the need to get dressed, sensing that his parents would be home soon. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react. I am always reinventing myself with new styles. “That’s it,” she said. ” She looked into her glass. " The lemons had enormously thick skins and were only mildly acidulous—sweet lemons, they were called; and one found them delicious by dipping the slices in sugar. He did not particularly care. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. “I wish that I could forget it,” he said. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult.
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