” A man who had been sitting with his hat tilted over his eyes at an adjacent table had risen to his feet and stood suddenly before them. Lucy marveled at the billiards table and the sauna. She felt anger at Sebastian, anger at the thrill that she felt in her loins upon seeing him, anger at herself for never having the courage to end her own life. She launched into a stuffy Partita 89 and played it too fast. Now it is—’ ‘What are you doing still here, missie, that’s what I’d like to know?’ demanded the man Trodger, sticking to his guns. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend.
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