“Dixon Steele: You know, when you first walked into the police station, I said to myself, “There she is — the one that’s different. She’s not coy or cute or corny. She’s a good guy — I’m glad she’s on my side. She speaks her mind and she knows what she wants.”Laurel Gray: Thank you, sir. But let me add: I also know what I don’t want — and I don’t want to be rushed.”

“She’s got us, she’s got us all. Caverna. She doesn’t want to let us go. Do you know what she’s like? A huge trap-lantern with us inside her, digesting us really, really slowly, and not wanting to let any of us go. Maybe that’s the worst kind of prison – not knowing you’re in a prison. Because then you don’t fight to get out.”

“Don’t leave. I want you to be with me.”“You’ll have your family.”I swallow before I say the words that will change this relationship forever. “You’re the one I need.”“But that would mean meeting your family.”It does, and I’m okay with that if it means she’s by my side. “I don’t care. I need you to be with me.”She smiles and cradles my face with her hands. “Of course. I’ll come if it’s what you want, but this is going to change everything.”“I know, but it’s what I want.”

“I don’t want to date her; I just want to be around her. She’s…different.”“Different how?” America asked, sounding irritated.“She doesn’t put up with my bullshit, it’s refreshing. You said it yourself, Mare. I’m not her type. It’s just not…like that with us.”“You’re closer to her type than you know,” America said.”

“You didn’t answer my question. I asked you about being in love. You said what it was like when your wife went away.”Martin sat down again. How young she is. When we were that young we invented the world, no one could tell us a thing. Julia stood with her hands clenched, as though she wanted to pound an answer out of him. “Being in love is…anxious,” he said. “Wanting to please, worrying that she will see me as I really am. But wanting to be known. That is…you’re naked, moaning in the dark, no dignity at all…I wanted her to see me and to love me even though she knew everything I am, and I knew her. Now she’s gone, and my knowledge is incomplete. So all day I imagine what she is doing, what she says and who she talks to, how she looks. I try to supply the missing hours, and it gets harder as they pile up, all the time she’s been gone. I have to imagine. I don’t know, really. I don’t know any more.”

“She frowns for a second. I don’t think she even realizes she’s doing it.Damn, I love that! She reacts to me even when she doesn’t want to.”