White’s compliments. ‘What are you going to do now, Gerald?’ He sipped his wine and shrugged. The huge, newly remodeled brick house was crammed full of people reeking of beer, vodka, and tequila. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. “It was perhaps my fault. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way.
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