Waiting alone in the full knowledge that her fate was now sealed, with the sleazy rhythmic strumming of Serena’s guitar wafting in from outside, the softly-sobbing Bobby thought once more of the ‘Parisian Pirate’, Luiz, the man who had taught her how to feel. He was now, according to the letter on the bureau, away again on safari.
   At long last came an inrush of cool air as the door was flung open, and she gasped. He was here! “I worship you, my green and pleasant, avian, quite chelonian partner-in-crime!” he said.
   Only in this moment of extremity could it have happened that he dabbed at her tears with the handkerchief she herself had made for him, and as the truth — the whole truth — slowly came home to her, she realized that it was now only a matter of time before they would be feeding off of each other's precious bodily secretions.