Phryne hears it, too, as she sits re-wrapping her incest tapes around her forearms, preparing for her regular appointment with the disappointment elementals. The sound, so unusual for Votu, haunts her as she makes her way, in disguise, through the streets. People are talking animatedly—about the sound? They do seem to be gazing at the city factory. What was it that so startled her about it—not the volume, the shrillness, nor even the abruptness... Actually (she thinks) it wasn’t sudden. I felt it coming. I thought of Clumsy, and then I began to feel as though I were waiting to hear from him... The appointment won’t wait. Kunty fantasizes about the woman she saw, her arms demurely bound behind her back, in some private place. Kunty slices her dress open with the edge of her claws, gradually exposing the magnificent abundance of that body. A full-grown woman! Even better than Gina! —drenched from head to foot in nowhere’s tears—certainly she isn’t crying. Her hair hangs down in long fringes, her dress clasps her like a wet rag.
