” She took the blue box from her hoodie and held it towards him. For if Gerald had indeed gone to see this Prudence, it was better to wait for his report. ” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. As they careened into a parking space, Lucy clung to the upholstery so as not to be thrown against the front seats. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream.
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