Without the protection of John’s star power, certain denizens of the school found new reserves of energy and turned their attention to her, especially Kate Pfister, a bleach blonde with a face that was a plain sort of pretty who had once dated John. After all there are other things. She bathed frequently with ash and lye soap stolen from traders. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. To shore up a business that never had any foundation, he wanted me to lend him a hundred thousand; and for his sake as well as for mine I had to refuse. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. ‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. She held it by the neck and broke the end of the bottle on the hard dirt.
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