"I know," I whispered. "I've gotta go." I don't turn you on anymore?" he asked, kissing me again."No," I lied. "I have to leave."I gave him a farewell...kiss, allowing my lips to linger on his for a fewmoments and turned away from him. I looked around for my raincoat, andsaw it near the entrance. "You'll unlock the door for me?" I asked.I looked back at him over my right shoulder. I saw an ugly, fat, old manwho was already in his 40s when I was still a baby. But this ugly, fatold man had just. What shall I tell her, Ovid? What charms could you put into verse thatwould convert a definite enemy to a cautious ally?" The tale of the Bacchic Fiasco is told by no other poet in theRepublic," I said fervently, having located my voice. "I have pursuedit for a year and I do not resolve to abandon it now. It was createdby the gods, Cornelius. If it is real, imagine what we could learnabout them."He nodded solemnly. "I will tell her that, then. We shall see."* * * * ** * * * *Love, With. More

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