He waved an arm and spoke with a peculiar resonance. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. “This,” he said, and then: “No! Is this sweeter? Very well. ’ He sat up. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. She could feel his penis pressing against her, half-erect under the starched black tuxedo pants. It was enough. She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously. She must kill this man, or kill herself. It remains a bizarre idea to me that Lucy Alberti could ever become so detailed or so real, but I’m certainly glad to have made her acquaintance. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. But this is the first time I ever sailed on any one of the three.
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