Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. She had found it in 1988, the year of the stock market crash. I’d do anything, Vee. Something, I'm convinced, has happened to the boys. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. It was just a chance that we in particular hit against each other—nothing predestined about it. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist.
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