I’m not mad that he has eyes for you instead of me, not mad at all. When it came time to eat once again, she hid out on the beach, a remote fastness beyond the city walls, a swampy morass that everyone avoided. One keeps rules in order to be one’s self. The preparations to meet him were immense, roses were planted everywhere, white and drooping with honeyed fragrance. "My demeanour ought to convince you that I came with no hostile intention. She was too wrapped up in the sheer joy of playing again; it had 201 been intimate, masturbatory. She drew a breath, and sighed it out. Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality. . ‘That was one of my own clever stories.
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