It was altogether possible that a woman of forty-nine would fall in love with a young man of twenty-five, and it was even possible that a young man of twenty-five would fall in love with a woman of forty-nine. Perhaps I knew this to be the case, without wanting to acknowledge it, perhaps that was why I was so swift to reject the narrative that even then seemed to occur to both of us. I found myself on guard, and as if aware of this, he appeared to change tack.
