“Besides, what gives me the entitlement," he says in a low authoritative voice," is when you said yes to going to New York with me, you, in effect said yes to me. I am a part of you now. As such, I am entitled to you.”

“I am confident, because you said yes. Or was it....." He looks up to the ceiling in deep thought and then back at me. "Oh, I remember. It was...yes, yes, yes, fucking hell, yes!”

“Will not the Senorita trust me?"Ramona smiled faintly through her tears. "Yes," she said. "I will trust you. You are Alessandro, are you not?""Yes, Senorita," he answered, greatly surprised, "I am Alessandro.”

“When tragedy befalls me and someone says, "Better you than me," I always reply, "Yes, I am better than you.”

“I dialed the number slowly, wanting to get it right. Two rings, and he picked up. "Yes," I said after his hello. "Mclean?" he asked. "Is that you?""Yeah," I said, swallowing and looking out my open door, at the ocean. "The answer's yes." "The answer . . ." he said slowly. "You asked me to go out with you. I know you probably changed your mind. But you should know, the answer was yes. It's always been yes when it comes to you." He was very quiet for a moment. "Where are you?" I started crying again, my voice ragged. He told me to calm down. He told me it was going to be all right. And then, he told he'd be there soon.”

“What is it, Angel?" she said, starting up. "Have they come for me?""Yes, dearest," he said. "They have come.""It is as it should be," she murmured. "Angel, I am almost glad—yes, glad! This happiness could not have lasted. It was too much. I have had enough; and now I shall not live for you to despise me!"She stood up, shook herself, and went forward, neither of the men having moved."I am ready," she said quietly.”