"Good-bye, young man; and good luck. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. behind the Laundromat. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. But there is need for the proof that I am me, and that is what I look for. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband.
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