Wood had prevented him from paying much attention to the previous scene. “You MUST,” he said, “because of my depression. She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern. He no longer made love to her, as there was no point. She slipped on a white clingy imitation silk tee-shirt, a sexy number that Shari had bought on super-sale at the Limited. He looked the boy over with interest. It was not necessary to appease the wrath of human society; it was necessary only to appease that of God for the broken Commandment. By instinct. You are your own Heaven and your own Hell, Lucy. And look, again, at the women one finds letting lodgings.
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