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*'»| p. 27 f |«'*
"What are you doing?" "Reading." "No, you're not." "Thinking, then." "About?" I was dying to tell him. "Private," I replied. "So you won't tell me?" "So I won't tell you." "So he won't tell me," he repeated, pensiveley, as if explaining to someone about me. How I loved the way he repeated what I myself had just repeated. It made me think of a caress, or of a gesture, which happens to be totally accidental the first time but becomes intentional the second time and more so yet the third.
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