“I have been reading through your book. It has been like breathing a bag of soot. I am”—her voice broke—“filthy from it. I found your history. Case Eighteen. You are recognizable to me. I have read all about your misery, your loneliness. Thank you, for waking me this morning and pressing this record of your adulteries into our bed. As if, when I wake, I am not sufficiently reminded.”
