"Go to lunch," he ordered Ruth. Manning came into her thoughts again, an unexpected, tall, dark, self-contained presence at the Fadden. The stench was cheese-like and unbearable and Lucy dry-heaved. "I understand," replied the stranger, unable to repress a smile. Watching her strip had been delicious for him, and a part of him enjoyed her self-consciousness acutely. Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen. . “In private. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. Perhaps I've been mad all these years; I don't know. Still, one has to be reasonable.
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