The smell of her expensive perfume, tinged perhaps with a faint hint of liquor, aroused in him a mixture of regret and desire.

“I’ve been trying to call you all morning,” she said, “but the phone’s always busy. Sorry to burst in like this. I’ll only stay a minute, really. You don’t happen to have a drop of vodka, do you? Never mind. Listen. I must have left an earring here. I was in such a muddle. You must think I’m crazy. The nice thing about you, Fima, is that I actually couldn’t care less what you think of me. As if we were brother and sister. I can hardly remember a thing of what I burbled on about. And you’re so kind, you didn’t laugh at me. You haven’t found one, have you? Silver, longish, with a little sparkling stone?”

Fima hesitated, made up his mind, tossed aside the newspaper that was occupying the armchair, and seated Annette in its place. At once he stood her up again and worked her arms loose from the sleeves of her red coat. This morning she looked beautiful and clever. He hurried to the kitchen to put the kettle on and check if there was any of his father’s Cointreau left. On his return he said:

“I dreamed about you last night. You were so lovely and glad because your husband had come back to you and you forgave him for everything. Now you’re even lovelier than you were in the dream. Navy really suits you. You ought to wear it more often. What do you say we draw a veil over what happened the day before yesterday? I’m so ashamed of myself. Your presence put me in a spin, and I seem to have behaved like the famous Tearful Rapist. I hadn’t been with a woman for over two months. Not that that’s any justification for behaving like a swine. Will you teach me how to make amends?”

Annette said:

“That’s enough. Stop it. You’re making me cry again. You’ve helped me so much, Fima; you’re such a good listener, you’ve got so much understanding and empathy. I don’t think any man in the whole world has ever listened to me the way you did. And I was so weird, so selfish, so absorbed in my own problems. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

She added that she had always been a great believer in dreams. It was a fact that that very night, when Fima was dreaming of her, Yeri had really called from Milan. He sounded a bit low. He said he had no idea what would happen, that time would tell, and she should try not to hate him.

“Time . . .” Fima began, but Annette laid her hand over his mouth.