She could not risk going in the door, lest she run into Larry or Cathy drinking a nocturnal glass of milk or Mike raiding the refrigerator for snacks. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. "Tomorrow I shall have a visitor. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. Are we to see him here?" "Yes, my love. ‘And me, I am a lady. He was out of breath, and spoke in broken sentences. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. On Friday Michelle found Lucy while waiting in line by the soda machine.
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