put an arm around her shoulders. “It’s OK,” he said. “Please don’t cry. Come on in on the couch. The news will be on any minute. We can do it there.” “It?” said Oedipa. “Do it? What?” “Have sexual intercourse,” replied Nefastis. “Maybe there’ll be something about China tonight. I like to do it while they talk about Viet Nam, but China is best of all. You think about all those Chinese. Teeming. That profusion of life. It makes it sexier, right?” “Gah,” Oedipa screamed, and fled, Nefastis snapping his fingers through the dark rooms behind her in a hippy-dippy, oh-go-ahead-then-chick fashion he
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