Inappropriate. The absurdity of the word struck me and I almost scoffed aloud. What, if anything, in our life was not inappropriate? We killed to live, we lied and cheated and took lovers, we slipped from town to town like ghosts, draining the populace of their money and blood before moving on. Not a month ago we had brought two young men home with us from the streets and taken our pleasure with them before draining them dry in our marital bed. I had given up appropriate when I had given up my ability to eat mortal food, to walk abroad in the sun.
