He was still talking now, but I had grown numb, my ears jungled, the noise so loud that his words went through me like ghosts. I had left my dumb husk there next to him on the settee, nodding and pliable, while I slipped away and down into the damp shadow of her, now growing scorching and impatient, pacing the catacombs of myself, my hands over my ears, biding my time.
