“Nothing can cheer me,” he said, “except champagne. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. ‘Ah, now I may see what damage Gérard has done to me,’ she muttered, crossing to the table and putting her hand to the sore place at her neck. She was the first to hear another car approaching from the street, an odd occurrence in an elementary school lot that had been abandoned for the weekend.
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