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"
Let
her
go
,
Peter
!
"
I
wanted
to
watch
her
buttocks
.
She
strode
up
and
down
that
old
coffeetable
.
Then
she
danced
.
She
waved
her
arms
.
The
poetry
was
terrible
,
the
body
and
the
madness
weren
’
t
.
Lydia
jumped
down
.
"
How
’
d
you
like
it
,
Henry
?
"
"
What
?
"
"
The
poetry
.
"
"
Hardly
.
"
Lydia
stood
there
with
her
sheets
of
poetry
in
her
hand
.
Peter
grabbed
her
.
"
Let
’
s
fuck
!
"
he
said
to
her
.
"
Come
on
,
let
’
s
fuck
!
"
She
pushed
him
off
.
"
All
right
,
"
Peter
said
.
"
Then
I
’
m
leaving
!
"