"Any time," he said, and closed his door.

I went out into the hall and leaned over the banister, just enough to see withoutbeing seen. She was still on the stairs, now she reached the landing, and the ragbagcolors of her boys hair, tawny streaks, strands of albino-blond and yellow, caughtthe hall light. It was a warm evening, nearly summer, and she wore a slim cool blackdress, black sandals, a pearl choker. For all her chic thinness, she had an almostbreakfast-cereal air of health, a soap and lemon cleanness, a rough pink darkeningin the cheeks. Her mouth was large, her nose upturned. A pair of dark glassesblotted out her eyes. It was a face beyond childhood, yet this side of belonging to awoman. I thought her anywhere between sixteen and thirty; as it turned out, shewas shy two months of her nineteenth birthday.

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