At the same time, she invented for herself an actual Lady V., whom she saw as tall and skinny, like a crane, with a great long pointed “aristocratic” nose, skimpy hair, and no breasts. Although at the same time a more reasonable interior voice informed her that under no circumstances even for a moment would Harry pay the least attention to anyone who looked like that. He liked medium-sized green-eyed blondes, with nice teeth and pretty breasts. Like her. Cynthia’s eyes teared for an instant at this recognition, but in the next minute she was angry again as she thought, Was it possible that Harry thought the two of them looked alike, she and this mythical Lady V.?That fall, after what Cynthia thought of as the summer of Harry’s disclosure, they were still at what seemed a standstill, Harry still saying that he had never truly cared for the Lady V.—“Vera,” as he now referred to her. She remained Lady V. for Cynthia.“Christ, I barely fucked her!” Harry once in desperation cried out.“How on earth did you manage that?”
