of profits. Subsidiary, but equally dazzling premises were advanced by our chirpist, but I came to the ten- tative conclusion that one can't ac- tually know what he thinks, if he does think a thing of his own any- more, until and unless the President of the United States is no longer of African descent. But Friday is not a day for unhappy reflections. He might not, actually, revive torture in our military jurisprudence, once the spectacle of the black man's humane Executive Orders were vacated; and he might fret less about apologies for our genius, if we had his to fall back upon.
It rained all night. You knew it rained down that rained. Look at it. Christ, that my love were in my arms and I in my bed again. That my love Catherine. That my sweet love Catherine down might rain. Blow her again to me. Well, we were in it. Every one was caught in it and the small rain would not quiet it. "Good night, Catherine," I said out loud. "I hope you sleep well. It it's too uncomfortable, darling, lie on the other side," I said. "I'll get some cold water. In a little while it will be morning and then it won't be so bad. I'm sorry he makes you so uncomfortable. Try and go to sleep, sweet."
I was asleep all the time, she said. You've been talking in your sleep. Are you all right?
Are you really there?
Of course I'm here. I wouldn't go away. This doesn't make any difference between us.
You're so lovely and sweet. You wouldn't go away in the night, would you?
Of course I wouldn't go away. I'm always here. I come whenever you want me.
"------," Piani said. "They've started again."
"I was dopey," I said. I looked at my watch. It was three o'clock in the morning. I reached back behind the seat for a bottle of the Barbera.