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"
Why
,
thank
you
!
"
she
said
airily
.
"
Are
n't
you
glad
I
wo
n't
be
in
your
hair
much
longer
?
"
"
You
're
not
in
my
hair
,
Justine
,
"
he
answered
.
She
abandoned
Natasha
,
picked
up
the
poker
and
began
rather
savagely
nudging
the
crumbling
logs
,
which
had
burned
away
to
hollow
shells
;
they
collapsed
inward
in
a
brief
flurry
of
sparks
,
and
the
heat
of
the
fire
abruptly
decreased
.
"
It
must
be
the
demon
of
destructiveness
in
us
,
the
impulse
to
poke
the
guts
out
of
a
fire
.
It
only
hastens
the
end
.
But
what
a
beautiful
end
,
is
n't
it
,
Rain
?
"
Apparently
he
was
n't
interested
in
what
happened
to
fires
when
they
were
poked
,
for
he
merely
asked
,
"
By
the
end
of
the
week
,
eh
?
You
're
not
wasting
much
time
.
"
"
What
's
the
point
in
delaying
?
"
"
And
your
career
?
"
"
I
'm
sick
of
my
career
.
Anyway
,
after
Lady
Macbeth
what
is
there
left
to
do
?
"
"
Oh
,
grow
up
,
Justine
!
I
could
shake
you
when
you
come
out
with
such
sophomoric
rot
!
Why
not
simply
say
you
're
not
sure
the
theater
has
any
challenge
for
you
anymore
,
and
that
you
're
home-sick
?
"
"
All
right
,
all
right
,
all
right
!
Have
it
any
way
you
bloody
well
want
!
I
was
being
my
usual
flippant
self
.
Sorry
I
offended
!
"
She
jumped
to
her
feet
.
"
Dammit
,
where
are
my
shoes
?
What
's
happened
to
my
coat
?
"
Fritz
appeared
with
both
articles
of
clothing
,
and
drove
her
home
.
Rain
excused
himself
from
accompanying
her
,
saying
he
had
things
to
do
,
but
as
she
left
he
was
sitting
by
the
freshly
built
up
fire
,
Natasha
on
his
lap
,
looking
anything
but
busy
.
