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Alison
knelt
beside
me
.
"
I
’
m
sloshed
.
That
whisky
.
Hey
,
have
some
of
this
.
"
It
was
gin
.
She
sat
beside
me
.
"
Well
?
"
I
thought
of
that
white
-
faced
English
girl
with
the
red
smudged
mouth
.
At
least
this
girl
was
alive
;
brown
,
crude
,
but
alive
.
"
I
’
m
so
glad
you
returned
tonight
.
"
"
Yes
?
"
She
sipped
her
gin
and
gave
me
a
small
gray
look
.
"
Ever
read
this
?
"
"
Let
’
s
cut
corners
.
To
hell
with
literature
.
You
’
re
clever
and
I
’
m
beautiful
.
Now
let
’
s
talk
about
what
we
really
are
.
"
The
gray
eyes
teased
;
or
dared
.
"
Who
’
s
Pete
?
"
"
He
’
s
a
pilot
.
"
She
mentioned
a
famous
airline
.
"
We
live
together
.
Off
and
on
.
That
’
s
all
.
"
"
Ah
.
"
"
He
’
s
doing
a
conversion
course
.
In
the
States
.
"
She
turned
and
gave
me
that
incongruously
sincere
look
.
"
I
’
m
free
.
And
I
’
m
going
to
stay
free
.
"
It
wasn
’
t
clear
whether
she
was
talking
about
her
fiancé
or
for
my
benefit
;
or
whether
freedom
was
her
pose
or
her
truth
.
