“You can pay for whatever you want, but I just want to warn you that I prefer to stay at places that don’t start or end with the word ‘motel.”

“My help—it’s not a light switch you can turn on and off. My help starts right now, and after this point you don’t get to tell me that you don’t want it anymore. Understand? You had a chance to walk away, Alice, and you didn’t take it. Now it’s time to play the game.”

“I brought you out here because I wanted to share a sunrise with you, and maybe even a sunset. I wanted to see how much I could kiss you between now and the time we dock tomorrow. And if I was really lucky, I was hoping I could lie with you until you fell asleep, until I couldn’t stay awake anymore. And in the morning, we’d wake up, and we’d be together, just like this.”

“Alice, I am the game, and trust me: you don’t want to play me.”

“I don’t think I heard the same ending you did. Maybe you should tell it again.”

“Who are you? Rabbit and Souris call you ‘Alice,’ me and Dee call you ‘Faye.’ I just didn’t know if ‘Alice’ was your poker-playing, Southern Hemisphere name or what. Hey, I’m just trying to fit in here. If I should be introducing myself as ‘Clark,’ I want to know about it sooner rather than later so I don’t embarrass myself.”

“Don’t make me Alice-nap you, Alice. Because you know I can carry you.”