Naturally.It wasn’t four days, either, or five. It wasn’t even six days, because when the seventh day came along she still hadn’t come back. Hadn’t even called. And there was a great big hole in my world where Gerda should have been, and wasn’t.I’d got used to having Gerda in my life. It wasn’t as much fun without her. It wasn’t even as interesting. The things that I would have treasured, and told Gerda about as soon as I saw her, and chuckled over with her—well, they had lost their savor and there was nothing about them to treasure now. Like the troop of Bengali Girl Scouts that came charging down the via looking for God knew what, only to be turned back by the virt Roman legions at the ropes. Or like the (I guess) gay lovers who were snapping at each other all the way down from the Stabian Baths, looked at my wine list and turned up their noses, paid Cedric for a tour of his make-believe whorehouse and came out looking appalled. And then went back toward the baths, now holding hands.
What do You think about All The Lives He Led-A Novel?
