Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. “So, since when does a grown man have to sneak behind the Laundromat to smoke a cigarette?” She asked 115 him. She had fallen asleep. You are—or rather you were——” he corrected himself with an unpleasant little laugh, “Miss Pellissier, eh?” A little sensation followed upon his words. I can’t love you. Abruptly she got out of bed, smoothed her sheet and straightened her pillow and lay down, and fell almost instantly asleep. Gwen—I saw Gwen the other day, and the paint’s thicker than ever.
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