Annabel was conscious then of the slow anger which had been burning within her since the night of her visit to the “Unusual. She imagined herself on a barren 41 plain, post-Apocalypse, convulsing, waiting to die with the cockroach. “John went into one of 151 the bedrooms Katy Pfister for over two hours, and I think he finally lost his virginity. She tugged at my coat and said, ‘I know of the blue-eyed maid. But I liked the things you said here. Battle, murder, and sudden death—and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the midst of it. In lieu of the substantial habitations which he had gazed on overnight, he beheld a row of falling scaffoldings, for such they seemed. But there was an abiding serpent in this Eden. One realized indeed then where the differences lay; the tender curves about Anna’s mouth transformed into hard sharp lines in Annabel’s, the eyes of one, truthful and frank, the other’s more beautiful but with less expression—windows lit with dazzling light, but through which one saw—nothing.
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