“I think of myself as more the non-turn-on type. so when I do get turned on, I don’t trust it, I have to investigate the source.”

“I moistened my lips. His gaze fixed on them. I think I stopped breathing.He jerked so sharply away that his long dark coat sliced air, and turned his back to me. “Was that an invitation, Ms.Lane?”“If it was?” I asked, astonishing myself. What did I think I was doing?“I don’t do hypotheticals. Little girl.”

“But I think we both knew, even then, that what we had was something even more rare, and even more meaningful. I was going to be his friend, and was going to show him possibilities. And he, in turn, would become someone I could trust more than myself.”

“I turned my lips to the hand that lay on my shoulder. I loved him very much - more than I could trust myself to say - more than words had power to express”

“After all my work to make something of myself how do you think I feel when I see how disappointed you are in me? When you find fault with me every time I so much as turn around?”

“I am the furthest thing from a do-gooder. I am venal and flib and too clever by half, I know, but the thrill of the most brilliantly quicksilver aperҫu is no match for the self-interested high I get from having done someone a good turn. You'd think I'd do more good turns as a result, but there you go.”