It remains a bizarre idea to me that Lucy Alberti could ever become so detailed or so real, but I’m certainly glad to have made her acquaintance. Never mind. And how can I get into one brief letter the complex accumulated desires of what is now, I find on reference to my diary, nearly sixteen months of letting my mind run on you— ever since that jolly party at Surbiton, where we raced and beat the other boat. Gerald swore. Practically all. Gerald? But could he be here so quickly? She hastily dabbed at her eyes, thankful for the darkness that she saw had come on outside unnoticed, dimming the room. She felt his whole mind sounding in ecstasy.
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